Set My Soul Alight
by Bertie Bott
Summary: Bella's life takes a horrible turn after Edward leaves her so she makes a call to the one person she could always count on to be there for her. Through him, she meets a whole team of heroes and eventually crosses paths with a god with a chip on his shoulder…
1. Prologue

(A/N): So I couldn't resist writing this as the idea struck me. MANY thanks, as ever, to Kittyinaz who has been my sounding board for this, and my other story. I'm starting to become dependent on her!

This is just the prologue and I expect to have the first real chapter up in a couple days. It's set in New Moon for Twilight, and just before the events in the Avenger movie. I know there are many that would balk at this pairing, both couple wise and crossover type, but I simply couldn't say no to my muse. Thanks for reading – please let me know what you think!

Title comes from Muse's _Supermassive Black Hole_.

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><p><em><strong>Set My Soul Alight<br>Prologue**_

She should've known it was already too late.

The relief that'd flooded her from escaping Laurent, albeit with the help of some huge horse-sized wolves on steroids, had Bella feeling something other than depressed for the first time in months. Adrenaline hummed through her veins and her entire body sung with life. For so long she'd let her grief consume her, infect every single facet of her life until there was nothing left of her, until she'd been nothing more but a walking corpse.

There'd been a time she'd thought death to be preferable to the terrible burden of existing as she was. Preferable to living with the knowledge that she'd loved so deeply only to be betrayed by the object of her affections, tossed aside like a fast food wrapper to be trampled on.

So when she saw Laurent, she hadn't run – not that running would've done any good. But then something strange had filled her, a willfulness that sparked as she realized the finality of death. An epiphany of sorts erupted in her mind as she realized how thoughtless she'd been behaving, how selfishness had colored her every action since _he_ had left.

She'd been a terrible daughter to her parents, never looking beyond her own pain to see the wounds she was inflicting upon them. Poor Charlie was making mad dashes to her room every night when she woke up screaming and he'd stay with her, silently rocking her in his oh-so awkward but so very genuine way. He was trying so hard to save her from herself, save her from the aching hole Edward Cullen had meticulously and callously chiseled through her chest. If she couldn't find it within her to live for herself, then she at least owed it to him.

It took almost dying for Bella to want to live. When Laurent finished his bad guy spiel about Victoria and revenge, he'd stretched out his claw-like hand like a lion ready to swipe the life from her, and Bella retreated a step. It was like that one step had done what nothing and no one else had been able to for months. It broke her out of her constant routine of depression and self-hatred. Like a slap to the face, Bella had snapped out of her woe and decided instantly that life did not begin and end with Edward Cullen.

She wanted to live.

And like an answer to an unspoken prayer, gigantic wolves descended and Bella ran as fast as she could back to her truck, her body thrumming with life, vitality and a new certainty that even though the pain and the wound would always fester, it'd be more like a boil that had been lanced of its poison. A bruise that would never fade, but it was a part of her nonetheless and she could accept that and live through the pain. Perhaps, she hoped as she drove home, it wasn't too late for her after all.

But that'd been a fool's hope. She should've known. It was too late for her... too late for Charlie.

A tentative eagerness bloomed warm in her chest when she saw Charlie's cruiser parked in front of the house. Bella wanted nothing more than to cook dinner for him, sit down and actually eat her food for once, show him that even if she'd lost the naivety of her youth she would eventually be alright. She'd never be the same, but she would find the strength to live.

No more than two steps in, Bella was slammed with the scent of coppery rust and salt.

Blood. And lots of it.

Fighting the wave of nausea and dizziness, Bella cautiously moved further into the house as a cloying fear clung to her like a large cloak swallowing her entirely. Her heart pounded against her sternum in an attempt to escape from the truth Bella already knew even without the visual confirmation. She was too late, far too late.

Charlie's mutilated body sat in his favorite chair and the vision on him torn asunder, blood spilled callously, etched itself into her mind never to be forgotten.

She collapsed at the foot of the chair, eyes wide even as tears fell like heavy raindrops over her checks and down her neck. Her breathing raced and she was in such a state of shock that the scent of blood no longer spelled a blackout. She was forced to absorb the sight of her dead father with no friendly escape.

Her eyes flickered over the scene in horrified fascination. His throat had been slit, but that had been after he'd taken the beating of a lifetime. Bruises marred over ninety percent of his body and Bella's mind leapt as she tried to comprehend the horror of her father's last moments.

A shockingly white envelop was nailed to his chest with one word scrawled on it: _Isabella_.

With a shaking hand, Bella softly tugged at the note as if not wanting to cause her father anymore pain. When it wouldn't come her hand fisted and tugged it fiercely while a sharp cry escaped from her lips. It tore free, leaving a small corner behind.

She opened it without looking, her eyes still riveted to Charlie. Gathering what little strength she had, Bella looked down at the note and read it's brief but horrific message.

_Isabella,_

_This is but a taste of what's to come – and what a delicious taste he was. It may comfort you to know he died with your name on his lips._

_Don't bother calling mommy. I stopped there first._

_Your next, little girl._

_- V_

The shaking in her limbs increased. She didn't doubt the truth behind every word written there and her heart further shattered knowing that her sweet but erratic mother had been just as brutally murdered. God, she'd failed both of her parents in the most horrific way imaginable.

Quickly, she turned and vomited what little there was in her stomach. The truth of her folly weighed heavy on her. She'd thought that after losing Edward she knew true pain, but his loss was but a mere paper cut compared to this. Her parents were both cut down in their prime owing to her own mistakes, her own stupidity for falling in love with the wrong person.

Anger roared within her, abrupt and fierce. Anger at herself, but a white hot fury was aimed directly at Edward Cullen who'd brought her into his world of monsters and had left her to fend for herself. He was just as much to blame as Bella herself. She'd bear the weight of her guilt for the rest of her life and if it was the last thing she'd do she'd find a way to make sure he would too.

Her mind started racing with what to do, but grief and anger made her thoughts flow like molasses until they honed with surprising sharpness at one thought, one realization.

With sharp precision, she folded up the letter from Victoria and stuck it into her pocket. In a heavy but clear fog she made her way up the stairs and into her room. In her closet was a seemingly innocent looking copy of _Crime and Punishment_ but when she opened the book, there was a rectangular hole missing and a small, silver cell phone rested where it had always been waiting for her. She'd hoped to never have to use it because it would mean something horrible had happened, even though a large part of her had wanted to make the call a thousand times if only to hear the soothing sound of his deep, brusque voice.

He'd come to her in secret one day at school, her mom none the wiser. It'd been years since he'd been home, years where her parents had given up on him, thinking him lost to them. But Bella had never given up hope and when he came to her that day at school and swore her to secrecy, she had known even at the tender age of thirteen that she must never speak of him to anyone. Not her parents, not Edward, not a single soul was to know of him or the cell phone he'd slipped to her.

"_For emergencies only, Eyas. Understand? You must tell no one. But always know that I love you and will always come for you if you need me."_

As she'd always done before, she'd taken what he said to heart. Trusted in his every word knowing that he'd always be there for her. He'd make it all better, somehow.

But now that the time had come to make the call, she dreaded it. Most would call the police at a time like this, but even though he'd never said anything specific about his job, Bella knew enough to know he'd have resources that the local police of Forks could only dream of. Still, she held the phone aloft in her palm, terrified by the weight of its significance. As much as she wanted to hear his reassuring voice, she was loath to tell him the truth, to confess to him how she was responsible for Renee and Charlie's horrific deaths and that even though she'd kept his promise to him, he was very much in danger as well.

He'd probably hate her, as he rightfully should. But still, there was a hollow comfort knowing that he could never hate her as much as she hated herself. She'd accept his blame as her cross to bear, but she'd never forgive herself if she didn't at least warn him about what may be coming for him next, as futile as a warning as it was.

Drawing a trembling breath, Bella opened the phone and selected the one and only number there.

It rang once, then again until it was answered and a deep, concerned voice came across. "Eyas? What's happened? What's wrong?" He would know that something terrible had happened if she was calling him.

At the sound of his voice, so strong and sure, Bella's tenuous hold on her emotions snapped and she let out a terrible sob.

"Clint," she said in a warble. "Clint," she repeated, her mind unable to form another word.

"Tell me," he breathed, sounding like he already knew what she was going to say.

"Mom and dad," she managed to gasp between the sobs, unable to find the words to complete the sentence.

But she needn't have worried. He knew. He always knew what she was saying even if she couldn't find the exact words.

He inhaled sharply.

"Clint," she cried again. "It's my fault, it's all my fault," the words spilled forth, a dark confession she was unable to keep from him.

"I doubt that, sweetheart, don't talk that way. Hang in there, little Eyas. I'm on my way."

He cut the line without another word, but Bella's relief was so intense she almost fainted. He was coming for her and somehow, he'd make it all better. Clint always made things better, like when they were kids and he'd be there to pick her up after a particularly nasty fall, cleaning her cuts with a parental patience Renee had always lacked, sealing each band-aid with a kiss.

As terrible as the situation was, a part of her secretly burned with eagerness. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself at Clint and hide in his arms far away from the cruel turn her life had taken.

Her brother was finally coming home.

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><p>(AN): So there you have it! I know you probably have questions, but much of the history is to come next chapter so please review and let me know your thoughts/impressions!

Eyas – a term for a baby/young hawk


	2. Taking Flight

(A/N): Thanks to all who decided to stick with me... I know it's an unusual pairing and crossover, but that's half the fun! Happy reading...

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><p><em><strong>Set My Soul Alight<strong>_

_**Chapter One**_

Sparring with Natasha was like fighting liquid mercury. Each movement of hers was taut with a fluid tension that would look equally effortless and beautiful to the outside person.

To the one she was sparring with, however, it made her deadly.

Clint took a hit to the ribs and doubled over. He followed the motion through and tumbled into a roll ending up behind her while simultaneously swiping out his leg. She easily jumped over the transparent strike, but Clint was able to regain his footing in the amount of time it took her to dodge it.

They stood opposite of each other again and while Clint attempted to catch his breath, Natasha smirked at him.

"You're getting better," she noted.

"I'm already good," he winked at her.

It was no secret his strength lied high up in the rafters and scaffoldings with his sharp eyes and trusty bow. Still, he was no novice at hand-to-hand and whenever they found themselves at the same S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, which was actually quite often these days, Clint always made it a point to challenge the woman known as the Black Widow to a few rounds of mock fighting. He'd yet to beat her, but that wasn't really the point, he smirked as she arched her back when he came at her again.

His pride was saved by the fact that he was the only one who stood a chance against her, anyway.

Natasha twirled and Clint was mildly distracted by the way her hair flailed out and caught the light so he didn't catch the knee coming up to his gut.

"That's gonna leave a mark," he wheezed and doubled over.

She clubbed him on the back of the head and said, "That's the point, Barton. Now keep up."

Clint grinned and feinted left, which she didn't fall for. He still managed to get a hit in, though, although Natasha grabbed his arm and pulled him in while bringing up her knee and hitting him in the already forming bruise just below his ribs. He was reasonably sure she hit the same spot as before on purpose.

Still, he didn't hesitate at grabbing her knee and tripping her back. She rolled a few feet away before expertly flipping back up to her feet.

"Show off," he muttered.

She smiled.

Clint was about to strike when he felt his right pocket vibrate and a shrill ring filled the gym. He instantly froze and Natasha landed a hit to the side of his head, barely pulling it enough to avoid giving him a rather nasty headache later.

"What the hell, Barton?" she spat, annoyed at his inattention.

Her voice sounded miles away as every single one of his senses narrowed and honed in to the phone in his pocket – the phone he'd religiously charged every night and never left his person. His heart was heavy with dread and anticipation equally.

The phone rang again and he snapped out of it.

His fighting stance fell and he scrambled for his pocket, hands shaking as they finally gripped the small silver flip phone that he immediately answered.

"Eyas? What's happened? What's wrong?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line that Clint was able to measure by the heavy hammering beats of his heart. Finally, her voice came through and it was all Clint could do to keep some semblance of control.

"Clint," she said tearfully, making his heart stop. "Clint."

Slowly, his eyes closed in dread as he knew what he was about to hear. "Tell me," he encouraged her softly.

From across from him, Natasha's sharp eyes pinned him as she absorbed the scene he was making.

"Mom and dad," Bella sobbed and how he wished he was already there by her side to comfort her.

A terrible sensation of grief and fear overcame him. _How_, he wanted to ask her. _How did our parents die?_ Foreboding made his arms tingle and his hand reflexively tightened on the phone. Living on opposite sides of the country as his parents had, it couldn't have been an accident.

_It must be because of me_, he thought. Somehow or some way an old enemy had seen through the measures he'd taken to hide his family and had killed his parents, leaving his baby sister alone and unprotected.

His mind spun with the repercussions. He'd been so careful to erase his past from his present – how had someone found them?

Bella's sobbing cut off his guilt-ridden thoughts. "It's all my fault, it's all my fault," she chanted, breaking his heart.

How like his sister to blame herself... to shoulder the burden that Clint was nearly positive was his and his alone to bear. He had to get to her and fast before that kind of thinking set in and she did something stupid. He loved his sister dearly, but she had a tendency to try to take on the world by herself, never asking or expecting help. In fact, he was mildly surprised she'd even called him and knew things must be dire for her to have used her phone. He silently thanked whatever God that may be listening for the snap decision he'd made to give her that phone years ago. He knew that if he hadn't she'd quickly find herself in over her head now and likely lost to him forever.

"I doubt that, sweetheart, don't talk that way. Hang in there, little Eyas. I'm on my way."

He snapped the phone closed and his eyes fell shut. He stood there breathing for a moment, finding the repetitive reflex of sucking in air oddly reassuring. Each deep and comforting breath allowed his sorrow to give way to planning, his instincts sharpening and clearing away his grieving thoughts, if only for the moment, while he instantly turned his mind to damage control.

Thank God he was only in L.A. He knew Bella had moved to Forks to live with their dad and he'd be able to get to her within a couple hours or so. Faster, even, with his connections. There'd be no airport security, no waiting for flight clearance.

Clint was not above abusing S.H.I.E.L.D.'s resources in order to get to his sister as fast as possible. In fact, he relished the thought, thinking it the least his godforsaken job could do for him seeing as how it was very likely he'd gotten his parents killed.

Over his cold dead body would his sister be next.

Clint snapped back into himself like a rubber band that had been pulled taut and then released. Instantly, every party of him was in motion, every one of his faculties working towards one goal.

_I'm coming, Eyas... I'm coming_...

"Clint?" Natasha's voice sliced through his racing thoughts like a whip against his mind.

His eyes cut to her and he knew by her slight frown that his usually impassive expression was gone and his fear and concern were branded on his face, making him feel naked to her probing eyes. "I need a jet. A fast one," he muttered.

With that, he whirled to his gym bag, shoving his effects into it. He had no idea what sort of situation he'd be flying into, but he'd be prepared, as always. For Bella's sake, he had to treat this as he would any of his missions. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.

"Clint!" Natasha snapped again, dogging his steps as he ran to his locker, throwing on his tactical gear before he ran to his special corner in the armory to grab his quiver and bow.

"Clint!" she shouted again, but this time she hooked her arm through his and spun him to face her.

They stared at each other for a moment, long enough that her own concern began to leak through her usual cool mask of indifference for anyone to see. Or maybe not anyone. Clint had always been able to read Natasha, to see through the personae she'd perfected for the job, just as she could with him. There was no hiding from each other.

"Tell me," she said softly, but with the timber of a command. "Who was that on The Phone?"

He closed his eyes again as his hand tightened on his bow. The way she said The Phone, with the implicit capital letters, let him know she'd been far more observant of him than he'd given her credit for. In hindsight, that was stupid of him considering Natasha was the best specifically for her attention to detail and ability to make connections. But she'd never confronted him about it, likely knowing he wouldn't have told her the truth anyway, no matter if he trusted her with his own life.

There wasn't time enough for the thorough explanation he knew she deserved, but he had to tell her something and he couldn't quite bring himself to continue his lie to her. Not anymore.

"My sister. It was my sister."

Natasha blinked once, her expression going blank.

"I have to go to her," he said softly, a hint of pleading in the words. _Please, don't be mad, Natasha_, his heart said. _I had to protect them. Had to protect her from it all. Even you_.

But he swallowed those words back like the true soldier he was. While he may regret lying to her all these years, he'd never regret doing what he thought was best for his family. Even if his carefully crafted lies were about to crumble in, he still would never apologize for protecting his baby sister. Not ever.

Natasha's eyes narrowed on him in her signature penetrative glare he was convinced could read souls. He had the distinct feeling she was reading his now, playing judge, jury, and his executioner if need be. She'd never seriously hurt him, no matter what she was capable of, but Clint didn't doubt he'd leave their next sparring session with more than mere bruises.

"I'll fly," she said abruptly, and Clint knew that was that. The interrogation was yet to come, but when push came to shove, they always had each other's backs.

She moved to go by him and Clint caught her arm. "Natasha," he said around the lump in his throat. His other hand came up to cup her cheek when she turned to him. "Thank you." He'd never meant those two words more than he did now, no matter how many times he'd said them to her in the past.

Her eyes narrowed on him again and after a moment, she gave him a sharp nod and continued walking to her gear, following his cue and suiting up for an unknown battle.

"Where are we going?" she asked. She sounded like she meant business even though he knew she was dying to get to the bottom of his secrets. But she was good at compartmentalizing and would get her answers later. For now, they were both focused on the mission.

"She lives in Forks, Washington. Closest military base is the Coast Guard in La Push."

She frowned. "They won't have a landing strip. We'll have to take the Harrier Jet. Call and arrange for ground transport once we land."

Despite the situation, Clint smirked. "Kind of feels like Bombay all over again, eh?"

Natasha frowned, unwilling to accept his peace offering of levity. "Bombay was completely different. That was an assassination. This is a rescue. So shut up and get in gear, Barton. You owe me an explanation in the air."

_Shit_, he thought, knowing she wasn't playing around. Neither was he, of course. He'd always tried to use humor or dry wit to deflect the more unsavory emotions that could pop up on a mission. Emotions like fear. This time, his fear was all the more intense knowing his sister was likely in danger.

_I'm coming, Eyas_, he thought again. _I'm coming, Bella_.

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><p>The good thing about being top field agents in S.H.I.E.L.D. was that when you demanded the use of a jet, especially in the rushed and demanding tone that Natasha had used, no one really questioned you. Explanations would be owed when they got back, but for now, it was a small thing to suit up, take flight, and make the necessary arrangements for landing in La Push.<p>

They were in the air all of five minutes when Natasha spoke, her voice sounding deceptively light through the headset. "So you have a sister?"

Clint clenched his jaw. "Yes," he said.

"Younger?"

"By ten years."

"Quite the age gap," she noted.

"Parents had me young, while in high school. They weren't really good together but stayed married for me. Bella was an oopsie-baby too, only by then their marriage couldn't take anymore strain and they divorced soon after having her."

"Bella?"

"Isabella," he offered.

"You're close to her," she said. It was not a question.

He smiled unconsciously as he thought of his baby sister. "We lived with my mom after the divorce. She was flighty, but loving. I took care of Bella mostly."

"So you're like Brother and father, then?"

He nodded, though she couldn't see him as she was in the front pilot's seat. "Yes, through no fault of our dad's, really. I haven't spoken to her in about five years."

His mind flashed back to when he'd gone to her school after a couple years of only calls and letters that had slowly dwindled as he climbed higher and higher up in the ranks. She'd run into his arms and as it always happened, it had felt like they'd just seen each other yesterday. Even though he'd felt guilty for pulling away from his family, he'd always known a part of Bella understood. She'd always been wise for her years, growing up with their mother had done that – forced her to grow up quicker, and while he was certain she knew nothing about his real life and his job, he wouldn't be surprised if she had an inkling.

That's why he hadn't hesitated in giving her the phone. He knew she'd understand what it, and he, meant by it.

"Five years?"

"Yeah," he answered a little hoarsely before shaking himself together. "Five years."

"Since the Larson incident," she said softly, a world of understanding behind the words.

Agent Larson had been someone who thought he could have his cake and eat it too. He loved the danger of the job, the importance of each mission. But he'd loved his family just as much. He'd a wife and two kids that he adored – talked about them all the time, raved, really – which had been the problem. A mission had gone wrong and his identity was compromised.

It'd been an easy thing, sadly, for the enemy to find out about his life outside the job since Larson had never wanted to shy away from his family as though ashamed. It'd been even easier for said enemy to kidnap Larson's wife and kids, eventually killing them in front of Larson who had attempted a failed rescue mission. He'd gone mad afterwards and had killed himself with a bullet to the brain.

The incident had haunted Clint with images of his own family and him in Larson's place. He'd already distanced himself from them, taking a new name the instant he entered S.H.I.E.L.D., but he had stubbornly kept small ties and knew it was time to cut them. He'd gone to Bella before his plan had been set in motion, determined that his sister know how much he loved her and to give her an out if she ever needed one.

After Larson, he knew disappearing for good would be for the best; that it was better his parents thought him lost in battle, presumed dead, for their own safety. They'd known of his military career, if not the extent, and it'd been a small thing to make Clint Swan disappear to his family even as Clint Barton lived and breathed.

Colonel Fury had agreed with him. It'd been him who had gone to his mother's house with a folded up flag and condolences.

When he'd come back from the harrowing visit, he'd told Clint of how Bella hadn't cried but had studied him with an odd tilt to her head. After a moment of staring at each other, she seemed to have reached some sort of conclusion and had looked more resigned than sad. After that, she'd gone to where her mother was sobbing on the couch, throwing a comforting arm around her shaking form even as she stared at Colonel Fury with a faintly knowing glint to her eyes.

"I've never seen eyes like that on a kid," Fury had told him. "So observant, almost penetrating. Reminded me of Agent Romanoff, in a way."

As sad as he was to put his parents through that sort of pain, a corner of his heart had thrived knowing that Bella, his little Eyas, knew better.

"I had to Natasha. I couldn't take the risk with them. With her," he said as his mind focused on the present. "But now it all feels pointless."

"Why's that?"

"Bella is smart," he said gruffly. "She'd never give up on me, just as I'd never give up on her. She wouldn't ever believe me gone without a body for proof. I knew a part of her would always be searching for me so I went to her and told her just enough to give her hope, to keep her faith in me. Maybe that was selfish, but I couldn't leave her helpless. I gave her a phone and kept its match with me always. Just in case of an emergency."

His teeth gritted as he thought of Bella sobbing into the phone, the realization that their parents were dead.

"So what's the emergency?" she asked carefully.

She sensed his sorrow and nearly overwhelming anger, but needed all the facts before entering the situation. Now was not the time for sparing feelings and mistakes.

"Parents are dead. They live on opposite ends of the country," he bit out, knowing she'd pick up on what he was implying.

"Not an accident, then," she murmured darkly, already knowing he was blaming himself, thinking someone was attacking him through them.

"Bella's alone and defenseless," the words and their truth had him leaning forward in his seat as though to propel the jet even faster.

There was a sudden burst of speed that had him sitting back in the seat once more.

"Not for long," Natasha promised grimly.

What would've taken them about two and a half hours to fly commercially was cut down to one hour in the military jet. Soon enough they were landing at the Coast Guard base in La Push, a Humvee waiting for them just over to the side of the landing pad. There was no runway to land a normal jet on which was why they'd taken the Harrier and Natasha executed a textbook vertical landing without the need of a long stretch of asphalt.

There was some personnel waiting for them, but their clearance was indefinite in all factions of the military, so it was a small thing to wave a badge, spout off some numbered level nonsense about security and then hop into the Humvee and peel out of the base at breakneck speed.

_Almost there, Eyas, almost there_, Clint chanted in his mind, his white-knuckled grip on the wheel expertly steering them towards Forks where his baby sister waited for him.

They made it within twenty minutes to the Swan home and Clint swallowed grimly as he saw the yellow tape and cop cars blocking off entrance to the house. A group of pedestrians were gathered across the street, huddled together and gossiping about the events.

"Get out your badge," he ordered Natasha.

Somewhere behind that yellow tape was his baby sister and no rent-a-cop in a Podunk town was going to keep him from her.

They marched with grim determination towards the house, Clint vaguely recognizing Billy Black in his wheelchair as close to the yellow tape as he could get with tears running down his cheeks.

Without a hint of hesitation, he and Natasha ducked under the yellow tape and kept walking.

"Sir? Sir you can't be here!"

But Clint's sharp eyes were already scanning the perimeter for his sister and he found her almost instantly. She looked smaller than he remembered, sitting with her arms around her knees on the corner of the front porch, ignoring some officer kneeling beside her. Even from here, he could see the pain in her eyes, a broken hollowness that had his feet moving forward and his fists clenching, ready to deck anyone who got in his way as he went to her.

Behind him, Natasha was showing a badge, stating credentials and covering their tracks while allowing them access to the crime scene.

But none of that was important, not to Clint. Covering their tracks was the last thing on his mind when he saw the officer by Bella reach out what was supposed to be a comforting hand to her, causing her to flinch back.

Growling under his breath, Clint jogged the last few steps and his vice-like grip wrapped around the officer's wrist to prevent the outstretched hand from attempting contact again.

"Don't. Touch. Her," he nearly growled, tightening his grip with each word.

Bella's head immediately snapped up.

"Clint!" she gasped, and the tears she'd been refusing to let fall were set free again.

"Eyas," he breathed as he swooped down and pulled her to him, relief making his arms shake as he tightened them around her. And like he'd thought before, it was like no time had passed since he saw her last. Their bond was unequivocal and impervious to things like time and distance.

"Sh-h," he hushed her, aware of Natasha making her way up the steps behind him. "I've got you."

"It's not safe," she muttered into his shoulder.

Clint pulled back to look down at her. Her eyes were different from the last he'd seen her. The youthful innocence that usually twinkled along with the sheen of an old soul, had dimmed and disappeared. There was a hollowness that went beyond the tragedy of their parents' deaths. Someone had hurt his sister, taken away her smile.

That person would pay.

But first, he wiped the tears from her cheeks and said as comfortingly as possible. "Tell me exactly what happened, Isabella."

Her breathing shuddered and her eyes flickered to the lingering cops by them before meeting his gaze again. Immediately, he knew she couldn't tell him everything _exactly_, not with extra ears nearby.

Whatever small hope he'd been secretly clinging to that it was all just a terrible accident dissipated at that telling look.

Breathing deep, Clint reluctantly pulled away from her. "I need to go inside, Eyas," he said.

Instantly, Bella's breathing quickened and she started shaking her head _no_. "Please Clint – you can't. Don't leave me."

Torn, Clint looked down. He had to see the scene; he had to find the clues the cops wouldn't be looking for. But he was loathe to leave Bella. Now that he had her again, he never wanted to let her out of his sight.

"Go," Natasha breathed quietly. "I'll stay with her."

She edge closer to them, a tentative hand coming to rest on Bella's shoulder.

Clint looked deep into her eyes. "Thanks Nat."

Looking down at Bella again, he saw her watching them with her usual observing eyes flicking between them. Finally, they rested on him and he read the question there. _Am I safe with her?_

He nodded slightly and Bella willingly moved to Natasha's side.

"Be quick," she whispered. "I already have what you're looking for anyway."

He frowned at her, a new fear starting to take him as he wondered just how much his sister actually knew about his life and the death of their parents. Exactly what made her think this was _her_ fault. Regardless of their secrets, he knew they'd stand beside each other. They'd both know the truth soon enough.

Steeling himself, Clint moved away from them and into the house. The scene he found there was one from nightmares. His father, a socially awkward man that had truly loved his children, sat brutally torn asunder, shredded as though a wild animal had clawed through him.

Clint swallowed, fighting back the urge to vomit... and cry.

Mentally, he distanced himself and tried to pretend that man wasn't his father. Wasn't the man that taught him how to catch, how to shoot a bow.

Five minutes was all it took for him to know the scene was clean. Literally clean. As in impossibly clean. With the type of wounds Charlie had, blood should be sprayed everywhere but the amount was minimal.

Something was definitely not right.

Exiting the house, he paused in front of the door for a moment to gather himself, trying to hold it together for Bella. When he went out, he saw that Natasha had moved Bella to a secluded spot by the tree in the front yard, her arm still kept comfortingly around her as the shorter girl stared absently towards the woods, only moving when she heard him coming to them.

Once he reached them he hugged her automatically, his eyes closing and the image of their father's body burning behind his eyelids.

"Clint?" Natasha asked.

He sighed into Bella's hair, pulled back and shook his head at Natasha. "It doesn't add up," he muttered. "The scene isn't faked, but it's not right as well."

Bella took a step back, shaking slightly and suddenly refusing to meet his gaze.

"Eyas?" he asked in concern, his hand reaching to her.

"Don't," she said, her lip trembling like he remembered it had always done when she was younger. "You won't want to comfort me. Not after I tell you."

The same fear from earlier rose again. "Tell me what?" he asked with a hint of command.

Bella sighed again and reached into her back pocket. "I didn't call the police. They came by because Charlie missed his shift and wasn't answering. I knew they couldn't do anything and I was going to wait for you, but once they were here, all I said was that I'd found him like – like _that_, after coming home from a hiking trip."

"Hiking?" he asked dubiously. Bella was not known for her coordination and her love of the outdoors.

She shook her head as her tears overwhelmed her again. Removing her hand from her pocket, Clint saw a folded white piece of paper shaking between her fingers, spots of blood lingering on the corners. He took it from her carefully, his eyes never leaving her face.

"It was," her throat closed off and she cleared it and started again, "it was n-nailed to his chest." Her hand extended it out to him resolutely

Horror filled him as he imagined what must be written there. A threat, a promise to take away his loved ones because of some foiled scheme or the like. He was loathe to read it, but knew he had to.

Finally tearing his eyes away from hers, he looked down at the terrible white papered death omen and his mind froze as he saw a name scrawled there, not his own as he had imagined it would be.

_Isabella_.

His eyes flew to hers again and her lip quivered.

"Read it," she said, her voice deadened. "Read it and I'll tell you everything."

Clint looked at her a moment longer, trying to read her but unable to, much to his frustration.

With heavy hands and heart, Clint unfolded the letter and read it, the world he thought he knew shattering with each word.

* * *

><p>(AN): So some answers here... and more questions. Stay tuned for more!


	3. With a Heavy Heart

**(A/N):** Hi again! Hope you'll enjoy this chapter. Someone asked me about what POVs I'll be doing... I have an outline (subject to change, of course) that I'm following, but I don't plan POVs, I tend to write as whatever character speaks to me first, as you'll soon see.

There will be mature chapters in the future that will be edited for this site. If you would like to read unedited and unrated, please follow my wordpress (linked on my profile). I tend to update their first anyway. I will let you all know in an A/N if a chapter has been edited to fit this site's guidelines...

Now happy reading!

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><p><em><strong>Set My Soul Alight<strong>_

_**Chapter Two**_

Natasha frowned down at the slim girl under her arm. Not known as a warm person by nature, she'd always looked upon others with the cold glint of suspicion that held them at bay, never allowing them too close as she knew the danger closeness bred.

Clint had been different from the start. Unnaturally persistent, he'd taken her coldness as a challenge and at face value, always treating her like an actual person; a friend, not an agent or assassin. He'd been fearless with her, open and unassuming until her trust sparked and grew, consuming every facet of their relationship. She remembered every mission where he had covered her or she him; recalled every time he'd pushed her out of the way of a stray bullet or a flying fist. There wasn't any part of herself that she didn't trust to Clint Barton.

Which was why she continued to mechanically move her arm up and down the girl's shoulder in a hollow act of comfort. She knew there was nothing she could do or say that would assuage the young woman's pain. Still, she tried, knowing that by comforting Isabella she was comforting Clint by association.

Years of training had her steering them to the tree near the front of the house. It removed them from the immediate vicinity of the local police and brought them further away from the gathering crowd of pedestrians already gossiping and shooting Bella pitying glances. As she scanned the small crowd suspiciously, her eyes alighted on a small group of Native American boys, from the La Push reservation they'd flown into she imagined, all wearing cut off jeans and no shirts. She eyed them narrowly, disliking how their gaze never strayed from Bella.

She would keep watch and deal with them if necessary.

Silent tears made their way down Bella's cheeks and the girl brought her arms around herself and shivered despite the unseasonal warmth there. Natasha recognized the signs of shock instantly, her criticizing eyes sharpening in on the tight hug the girl was giving herself as though holding her person together by sheer willpower alone. A stiff breeze would be enough to shatter the poor girl.

Studying her shaking form, Natasha noted her pallid skin, her hollow eyes and thinning cheeks – all physical signs of grief, yet it was too soon to see them in response to the untimely death of her parents. The girl had been mourning even before this tragedy and Natasha felt her stomach tighten in suspicion even as she tried to talk herself out of it. For Clint's sake, she didn't want to imagine that Bella had played any nefarious part in the demise of her parents.

Natasha tightened the arm around Bella as her mind scattered for something, anything she could say that would help her.

"Clint will find something, Bella," she ended up saying, though the words were mechanic and wooden. "He'll make it alright."

Bella didn't seem all that interested in her presence, but when Natasha spoke, she turned her broken gaze to her. "He won't," she rasped. "He won't want anything to do with me as soon as he knows."

Natasha's entire body tightened as she read the guilt dripping from every word.

_Please_, she thought desperately. _Please don't make me have to take care of this girl_. _Not this girl_.

She would, though, if necessary. To spare Clint the pain, Natasha would do what must be done if this girl turned out to be a danger to him. He would forever hate her for it, she had no doubt, but she'd protect Clint – even from himself.

"But he needs to know," Bella muttered and it sounded like she was talking to herself. "It's too late for me, but he's kept himself so well hidden that she likely doesn't know about him," she cut herself off with a tiny sob before she continued, "He deserves the truth, just in case, and then I will leave. I will keep him safe."

Abruptly, all of Natasha's concerns evaporated. _So alike_, she thought. This girl and Clint were so very alike. She remembered the crippling guilt and fierce determination that had gripped Clint as they made their way up there and saw it echoed in Bella Swan.

This was not a girl with a nefarious plan. If anything, this was a girl who may have gotten in over her head and was now shouldering the burden of guilt all by herself in order to protect someone she cared for deeply. Bella Swan wasn't a part of an evil conspiracy to get to Clint, she was just someone in trouble and instead of worrying about herself, all she was concerned with was keeping her brother safe.

Even at her own expense.

_So, so alike_, she thought again as Clint finally left the house. She saw him pause just outside the door to collect himself. Whatever it was he'd seen lingered around him – his shoulders tense, a slight green tint to his face. It was bad, she realized. Not much shook Clint anymore and to see him so visibly torn made long buried instincts of protection swell within her chest. Even discounting the fact that he'd just seen his father's dead body and so was naturally upset, she could tell it ran deeper than that. She knew Clint Barton better than anyone, perhaps save the girl under her arm, and knew that whatever he had just seen wasn't only tragic, but it had also been gruesome.

Which meant this was personal. They'd already suspected as such, of course, but the confirmation of it brought a cold awareness to Natasha.

Now, she only had to find out which one of these two siblings was being targeted, and given Isabella's guilt-ridden grief, Natasha already knew which way that was leaning.

It was going to be a long night, she thought.

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><p><em>Isabella,<em>

_This is but a taste of what's to come – and what a delicious taste he was. It may comfort you to know he died with your name on his lips._

_Don't bother calling mommy. I stopped there first._

_Your next, little girl._

__- V__

Uncomprehending, Clint stared at the note. Each word individually made sense, but lined up together and in the order that they were didn't translate. It might as well have been written in Russian for all the sense this godawful situation was making.

Except Clint could read Russian, so there went that theory.

"Eyas?" he asked, looking from the bloodstained paper in his shaking hand to his little sister.

He saw her lip quiver again and was abruptly thrown back to when she'd been a little kid, seven years old, and had fallen off the monkey bars and broken her wrist. Their mother hadn't noticed at first, but Clint always kept a close eye on Bella when they went to the park and had flown to her side instantly.

Her lip had quivered in much the same way it was now, and he'd swept away her tears with a smile as he'd told her, "Shush now. You'll be okay. I've got you, little bird. Clint's got you."

Suddenly, Bella's hunched shoulders straightened determinedly and she lifted her head to gaze at him intently. Fear clutched him and he dreaded whatever she was about to say as she faced him down like she was in front of a firing squad for execution.

"What I have to tell you, Clint, is dangerous. I'm sorry, so very sorry, more than I can ever say – and I won't," her voice cracked but she stubbornly continued, "I won't expect you to forgive me, but I couldn't _not_ warn you. I love you too much to let you suffer in ignorance. You won't have to see me ever again, but please let me explain."

"What bullshit is this, Eyas?" he smiled sadly. "You know I would never, ever abandon you. Even when I had to let mom and dad think I was gone, Isabella... I couldn't do that to you. I will always be here for you. Always," he spoke with the heavy solemnity of a vow made in his own blood.

"You say that now," she murmured tearfully. "But you'll change your mind and leave me. Everyone's always leaving me."

For a brief second, Clint forgot all about the note and simply hugged his sister to him as she sobbed. It was so obvious that something had happened to his Eyas; someone had left a scar on her heart and stolen the tentative optimism she'd always had.

His sister was broken and it had nothing to do with their parents' deaths.

Before he could do or say anything, someone intruded on their moment.

"Bella," a voice whispered sadly, and Clint could detect a heavy note of pity that had both his and his sister's backs stiffening.

"Jacob," she greeted vacantly, looking at a large Native American boy who Clint decided must be on steroids he was so built. Then her gaze went to his left and she greeted another. "Billy."

"You should come home with us, Bella. The police are going to be done with the clean up within the hour and they said you could leave with us after you've given an official statement."

Clint's hands tightened around her and he didn't even bother to hide his defensiveness as he snapped, "She isn't going anywhere with you."

Beside them, Natasha drew up evenly to him in a silent show of agreement. As always, she was poised to spring, ready to attack and defend if necessary.

The one not in a wheelchair, Jacob, shook violently. "That's not for you to say," he hissed.

"Like hell it isn't," Clint snapped.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" the kid demanded.

"Jacob," the one called Billy said reprovingly.

Realization slipped over him, chilling him like the first sip of ice water. "Billy? Billy Black?"

The man looked at him curiously, his head tilted to the side as he clearly tried to place him in his memory. Clint could tell the instant it hit him as he paled rather impressively for a man of his skin tone and looked as if he faced a ghost. "Clint? Little Clinton Swan?"

Barton – he wanted to correct him but didn't. That was something he needed to explain to Bella before anyone else. "Hey there, Billy," he said in confirmation.

"As I live and breathe," Billy muttered in amazement. "You're supposed to be dead, boy."

Bella flinched and Clint could have smacked the guy for all his tactfulness. "Look," he said uncharitably. "Isabella and I are talking about family matters. I know you guys mean well, but she's not going anywhere with you, so if you'll excuse us..."

The kid stepped forward. "I don't know who you are, but –"

"No," he cut him off, slowly moving Bella behind him as he faced the angry teen. "You wouldn't remember me. You were still wetting the bed when I last saw you last, kid."

"What the hell?" Jacob barked.

"Jake," Bella cut in, moving to stand beside Clint while reaching down and holding his hand. "This is my brother Clint."

"You don't have a brother," the kid shot back without really even registering his words.

Bella's lip trembled and Clint wanted to deck the guy for being such a dick. Before he could do or say anything though, Bella said sharply, "I don't have time for this. Thank you for the offer, Billy, but I'm staying with Clint and his girlfriend. We'll take care of Charlie's arrangements and notify you when everything is set. Now if you'll excuse us?"

The boy tried to reach out to her, but Clint was quick to pull her into his side with a warning glare. "Bells," Jake said. "It's not safe here for you. You need to come to the Rez where I can look after you."

Clint's eyes narrowed on the boy suspiciously. He sounded like he knew something, but also implied a hidden threat. It was as if he knew that Charlie's death was no accident, knew that someone out there was going to come after his sister next.

And if the kid did know that, then that made him a suspect, a danger to his sister.

Natasha clearly felt the same because he could see her hand drifting to rest over her gun, her fingers twitching to draw and shoot at any sign of aggression towards them.

"Don't talk about things you can't even hope to understand. This is a family affair. You need to leave now," Bella told him coldly and Clint watched as each word landed on the kid like a verbal slap to the face.

The boy went to take a step forward and Clint tensed in preparation to spring.

"Jacob!" a new voice barked.

Another Native American boy jogged forward. He, too, wore jean shorts and lacked a shirt – _don't they have shirts in La Push_, Clint thought snidely – but he carried himself as if he was wearing a power suit. He had an air of leader about him and Clint wasn't all too surprised when Jake seemed to heed his call.

"We need to leave," the newcomer said, practically ignoring them as he looked only to Jake.

"But Sam –"

"Now, Jacob!" the guy, Sam, barked.

With a heavy air of reluctance, Jake turned and stalked after Sam while Billy lingered. The poor man seemed unable to look away from Clint, as if he feared to do so would make him disappear again.

"I don't understand," Billy muttered. "You were declared dead, Clint. We mourned you – Charlie never stopped mourning for you."

Clint swallowed thickly as he pictured his proud father grieving for him in his own quiet way. Charlie Swan had been a man of many emotions but had kept them in tight rein. Everything about his dad had been understated but so completely genuine. He remembered the camping trips of his youth spent fishing and hunting. His dad had bought him his first bow and taught him the value of a steady hand and keen eye. To people not close to Charlie Swan he may have seemed a stoic man, but Clint remembered the light of pride in his father's eyes the first time his arrow had hit a bullseye. He remembered him awkwardly humoring his sister to a mock tea party when they'd visited him one summer. Charlie Swan may have appeared as calm and steady as a winter lake, but he ran deeper than any ocean.

Shaking off the memories, Clint rubbed Bella's back reassuringly as he turned her away from Billy. "We can talk later, Billy. Right now I need to be with my sister."

Billy nodded somewhat reluctantly. "If you need anything, Bella, anything at all, you know where I'm at."

Not looking at him, she nodded distractedly and only relaxed in Clint's arms when he'd gone.

"Something's off with that boy," Natasha remarked quietly.

Clint agreed. "Yeah, but we'll figure it out later. Right now we need to get these people out of here and take of the arrangements for Charlie. Then we'll have to see about things in Florida with Renee... maybe it was an empty threat and she's fine?"

Bella sniffled in his arms. "It isn't. She killed her for real this time, I'm sure of it."

His eyes fell closed and he took a deep breath in an attempt to remain calm. "_This_ time, Eyas? There's been other times?"

She looked to the floor in a decided show of guilt. "I'll explain it all, Clint, and then you can leave with your friend."

He gripped her arms and bent down to catch her eyes. "You listen to me and listen well, little bird. I'm not leaving you and I don't buy for one minute that this is your fault. Feel me?"

She shook her head as more tears fell.

"Now stop that, Isabella," he said firmly. "Now is not the time for a pity party. We both owe each other some answers and once we see to that, I'll take care of you. Don't I always take care of you, Eyas?"

She sighed and brought her arms up around him. "Yes Clint, you always do. I've missed you so much, big brother."

Resting his cheek against the top of her head, Clint squeezed her tightly to him. "And I've missed you, Bella. So much."

"Incoming," Natasha warned softly as one of the deputies made their way over.

The next thirty minutes or so were spent with Bella giving her official statement to the officer as the coroner finally arrived to clear out Charlie's body. Clint listened to Bella's words absently, noting her subtle tells that confirmed she was lying to the man writing down her every word. But he was also surprised to see she'd learned to lie so well. If he hadn't known her as well as he did, he would have believed her every word.

As it was, her newfound lying ability brought him a sense of sadness even if he knew it'd come in handy in the future. Someone only became good at something with practice and Clint's already racing mind pushed even faster as he wondered exactly how long his sister had been spinning lies in order to craft them so well.

The door to their house opened and Clint quickly moved to block Bella's line of sight as the coroner finally wheeled out Charlie's body. He himself couldn't keep from staring at the black bag on the stretcher and knew it was an image that would forever linger in his memories of his father. He didn't want the same for Bella. It was bad enough she'd been the one to find his body and was unable to unsee the gruesome murder scene, but there was a stark finality that came with that black body bag that made Clint's heart ache. He couldn't do anything to take away the memory of their father's mutilated body from Bella's mind, but he'd do whatever possible to keep from adding to the terrible images.

Finally, the police deemed the place clean and with fervent promises to keep her updated on the case, they left Bella alone, sending to good townsfolk of Forks back to their homes as well.

As cars and people slowly cleared out, Bella stood awkwardly in front of Clint and Natasha, unable to meet either of their eyes.

"So, Mark says we can go in now," she muttered, looking to the house, then back to the floor.

She looked like she would rather eat asphalt than go into her once safe and welcoming home, but again, Clint was mildly impressed at his sister fortitude as she straightened her shoulders and resolutely walked towards the house.

Her courage was fleeting, however. No more than two steps into the home and Bella froze, her eyes darting to the living room and locking on the chair that had served as Charlie's deathbed. It had been his favorite, Clint remembered, which made the visual all the more horrifying. Every memory of him in it, now tainted with the knowledge that it had been where he'd died.

It was Natasha who brought them both out of it.

"Let's go to the kitchen," she said, her tone soft but brooking no refusal.

Clint snapped to it and put his arm around Bella while steering her into said kitchen.

Bella cleared her throat. "I'm sorry – Um, I don't mean this in a bad way, but please, who are you?"

Mentally, Clint slapped himself for not introducing them properly. Obviously introductions had been low on his to-do list of priorities, but he should have done it before now.

"Bella, this is Natasha. Natasha, this is my sister Bella. We work together, Eyas. She's kind of like my partner."

Her eyes darted between the two of them and a subtle twitch at the corner of her mouth let Clint know Bella saw far more between them than anyone else did. He shouldn't have been surprised she would pick up on the dual meaning of the word 'partner'... Bella had always known when Clint had been sweet on a girl.

"I'd say nice to meet you, but under the circumstances," Natasha trailed off, looking a mite awkward. He felt bad that their first meeting would be forever shadowed by the circumstances that had brought them together but he also hoped that Bella would be able to see past Natasha's brusque and cool exterior that served to hide an unexpectedly soft heart.

Bella gave a half-hearted, tired smile and nodded. "So I suppose I should just come out and say it, no more dancing around the issue, right?" She fiddled nervously with her fingers and bit her lip as she again refused to meet anyone's eyes. "I don't even know where to start," she sighed.

"Just take your time and start at the beginning, Eyas," Clint said comfortingly. "Natasha and I are here to help you."

Suddenly he felt like he was a hostage negotiator in the process of talking someone down from the edge. Interrogations had never been his area of expertise – that'd always been Natasha's bread and butter – and he had no desire to see his sister as someone that needed to be interrogated, but knew he'd have to think as such if he wanted to get the answers that would ultimately help him protect her.

"I don't know if you'll believe me," she muttered, tucking a long strand of hair behind your ear. "It's kind of... well, unbelievable, to be honest."

Clint and Natasha locked eyes. He remembered the recent events in New Mexico where he'd witnessed a smack down of mythical proportions between two Gods. He thought about the file that S.H.I.E.L.D. had detailing the life of Bruce Banner and his angry alter-ego. Then Clint thought about the man known as Captain America who'd been frozen in ice for decades before being thawed out, living and surprisingly spry for an old geezer. And not to forget, as if he'd let someone forget about him, there was the man of iron himself, Tony Stark, who pretty much specialized in insane feats of nature.

"You'd be surprised what I'd believe, Eyas," he finally said, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

She looked doubtful, but started talking. "A lot has happened, Clint. I'm not even sure where the beginning is anymore... Guess I should start with them – the Cullens."

The way she said the name, a small shudder wracking her slim body as she rubbed her chest like one massaged an aching bruise, made Clint stand at attention.

"Does this have anything to do with the Phoenix Incident?"

Bella frowned. "You know about that?"

She sounded partly impressed, but mostly horrified.

"Eyas," he shook his head sadly. "Even though I couldn't be there doesn't mean I _was never there_. I've always kept tabs on you guys."

Clint remembered learning about her running off to Phoenix, supposedly because of some boy – Edward Cullen, he'd learned the name was – and now that she'd brought up the name Cullen in such a pain-filled tremor, he was starting to make connections. He'd never thought it in character for her to run away because of a fight with a boy and when he'd learned of the Phoenix Incident, heard about her supposedly tripping down some stairs and falling through a window, a red flag of warning had instantly been raised. Isabella had always kept a clear and level head where her emotions were concerned, both she and Clint were very much like their father in that respect, and the whole story had sounded suspect to him from the beginning.

But she'd never called him. She'd had the phone for some time by then and if she'd needed to, she would have called him. Wouldn't she have? He'd consoled himself with that thought at the time, but now he was not so sure. Isabella was incredibly self-sacrificing when it came to her loved ones and had always tried to protect them, even at her own expense. She and Clint were so much alike in that respect, and now Clint's eyes were opened to a new, far more likely scenario when he contemplated the Phoenix Incident, as he'd dubbed it.

Isabella had been in real danger but hadn't called him. In the only way she could, she'd protected him by keeping him away.

The realization gave him a tight sinking feeling in his gut like he'd swallowed a lump of lead. Not even twenty-four hours had passed since her calling him and Clint found his whole world twirling on end like some sick parody of a toy spinning top. He'd sacrificed his connection to his sister in order to save her and now he was finding out she'd likely been doing the same for him.

"I think it's time we put all our cards out on the table," Natasha said bluntly, but her tone was surprisingly conciliatory.

Of the two of them, Natasha was the expert in information gathering. She was the agent sent on impossible missions to gain facts and Clint was more the observer, the person they sent with her to keep an eye on the situation; the person who would just simply put an arrow through someone's eye if they refused to cooperate with Natasha's interrogation methods.

"You both are very alike," Natasha noted, and he really shouldn't have been surprised that she was obviously making the same connections he was. "Clint cut ties to keep you safe, you allowed them to stay cut for the same reason, yes?"

Bella looked from her to Clint, then back to Natasha again. Her one worded answer sat heavily on his heart. "Yes," she whispered.

"Alright," Natasha allowed, and Clint found himself entirely grateful that she'd appeared to have deemed it necessary to take over for them. Both he and Bella were understandably emotional and Clint's training melted away under his sister's suffering. He was incapable of asking the necessary questions; incapable of treating his sister like an interrogation suspect.

Natasha, however, was not. "The Cullens," she stated, her eyes softening mildly when Bella flinched at the name. "They are the people responsible for your troubles?"

Clint's mind went to every possible outcome, but focused on the few that revolved around criminals, gangs... mafia. Good lord, did his sister fall in love with someone with mafia connections? His mind replayed scenes from _The Godfather_ and he felt the urge to vomit.

Isabella's eyes shifted nervously before closing resolutely. "They – they aren't exactly people," her voice cracked. "They aren't exactly... human."

A deafening silence thundered.

"Tell us," Natasha demanded. "You must tell us everything."

And so Bella did. Each word fell onto Clint like the lash of a whip, scarring his heart for the pain he'd left his sister to suffer alone. She spoke of meeting Edward Cullen, how they fell in love – or so she'd thought – and how she'd uncovered their dark secret.

Vampires.

Then she spoke of being hunted by James, how she'd sacrificed herself in Phoenix when she'd thought he'd had their mother, only to find out she'd been tricked and had been lured to what was supposed to have been her death. She spoke of all the ways Edward Cullen had failed her – he'd kept pulling her closer only to push her away.

He'd toyed with her, Clint decided, fury shaking him to the core. This creature had done more than break his sister's heart. He'd wounded her very soul.

And then he had abandoned her. Left her alone in a world where she knew too much and was unable to protect herself from the dangers she'd been exposed to. Edward Cullen had done more than merely break her – he'd obliterated her. He and his entire family had destroyed her just as surely as if they had killed Charlie themselves and not this Victoria character Bella told them about.

He watched as each word purged from her. He saw the shame darkening her eyes and the guilt settle heavily on her shoulders. It was so clear that she blamed herself for it all, though it made him happy to see she reserved a large amount of anger for this so-called family of vampires. But his sister carried the weight of their father and mother's deaths on her heart as though it had been her hand that had snatched their lives. She held herself responsible and looked at Clint as if he was a ticking bomb about to explode and destroy her as well.

But that was ridiculously, he wanted to yell at her. How could she ever believe he'd condemn her and leave her to die tortuously at the hands of some sadistic monster?

"Eyas," he muttered, her nickname filled with the sorrow in his heart.

"I'm sorry, Clint," she needlessly apologized. "I'm so sorry I got our parents killed."

She shattered before him like spun glass, sobs spilling from her lips as she collapsed to her knees as though she was about to beg him for forgiveness.

He was at her side instantly, his arms holding her to him as he rock her soothingly. "Shush now. You'll be okay. I've got you, little bird. Clint's got you," he echoed the very words of their youth. He meant them now more than ever. "I won't let you go. It's not your fault, Eyas. It's not your fault."

_It's their fault_, his mind hissed. And as he held his sister to him he vowed that after they sorted out this bitch Victoria, the Cullens would be next.

No body fucked with his sister and got away with it.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN):** So Clint knows, but he has much to explain to Bella now, doesn't he? Up next, we meet S.H.I.E.L.D. and possibly an Avenger or two ;) For those wondering, Loki is scheduled to appear in chapter 4, maybe 5 if I get verbose, so hang in there!

Please drop me a review and let me know what you think!


	4. Meetings

**(A/N):** Some people have asked if I have an updating schedule... I do, tentatively. As I have another story going on, I hope to update both stories every other week, making it so there's a chapter each week for one of them. This is not a promise, mind you, as real life happens, but it is my goal.

Hope you enjoy this chapter... I haven't edited too thoroughly, so please forgive any silly mistakes.

Happy reading, y'all!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3: Meetings<strong>

The building was... Shiny. And big. Not obnoxiously so like Stark Tower which they had driven by on the way there, but the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters Clint and Natasha had brought her to was obviously well funded and expanse even though it was remarkably nondescript on the outside. Oddly, it'd looked like a post office and she'd initially been surprised as they'd pulled in.

Bella bit her lip and walked a little closer to Clint when a man in a sharp black suit gave her a penetrating look.

"Ignore him, Eyas. You tend to get a little paranoid in this business."

She didn't doubt that. Spies, assassins... Her mind was still whirling after all that Clint had shared with her over the past few days. She'd always suspected something like it, but to actually have confirmation that her big brother was a key member in a special faction of the military only a select few were aware of – Well, it had been a daunting discovery.

At first, they'd focused on keeping on eye out for Victoria as they prepared Charlie's funeral. It hadn't taken long for authorities to contact them about Phil and Renee's deaths as well. An accident, the officer had told them over the phone, likely caused by Phil swerving to miss an animal in the road.

Though she had been accepting it, the confirmation had hit Bella like a sledgehammer to her chest. She'd hyperventilated to the point of passing out and when she awoke again, Clint had nearly settled all the arrangements for their burials and he'd insisted on her relaxing, of all things.

On a cold Sunday morning, Charlie Swan was laid to rest in a simple ceremony that nearly the whole town turned out for, including a good many from the Quileute Reservation. Bella had been uncomfortably aware of Jacob staring at her the whole time while he'd been sitting beside his father. After she and Clint had said their quiet goodbyes at the simple but beautiful marble tombstone – only his name and the years of his birth and death with the words _Beloved Father_ engraved underneath – and had made their way to the car, Jacob had intercepted them in another attempt to get her to live on the reservation, spouting off nonsense about protection and things he really didn't understand.

Clint had put him in his place, giving him a verbal lashing that almost had Bella feeling sorry for the boy who had once been her friend, but then she remembered all his talk of not abandoning her when in the end that was exactly what he'd done. He may not have been as cruel about it as Edward had, but Jacob Black had so easily cut her out of his life weeks ago despite her attempts to reach out to him.

In the end, she decided to follow his lead and closed off the small part of her heart he'd once held. The loss of his friendship had been salt in the wounds Edward had created, but now, after Charlie and Renee, Bella simply didn't have the patience for his youthfulness. It felt like she'd aged years within the span of hours and while at one time she could see herself welcoming Jake back into her life, now all she saw was a boy playing at being a man.

So ignorant, she recalled thinking as he'd tried to strong arm her into coming home with him. So naïve. She hadn't meant it negatively, but had settled on the thought wistfully, knowing that saying goodbye to Jacob was like saying goodbye to her own naivety. She almost envied him for it, but resolved to make herself stronger now that her rose-colored glasses were shattered.

Clint would help with that, she knew. With the loss of her parents, Bella had lost herself and was unsure who she was. Too much heartache in a short amount of time had destroyed her. She walked around almost like a blank canvas waiting to be colored and with time, she'd know what to draw.

With Charlie seen to and Bella's roots to Forks thoroughly severed, they'd packed up all of the sentimental items and simply sold everything else while making their way to Florida.

In some ways, settling Renee's affairs had been easier. Phil's parents had seen to most of the arrangements before they'd even arrived and Renee had never had the foresight to make any lasting investments or ties that would require their attention.

Natasha had stayed with Bella as Clint used his connections to get the police report of the accident. Bella figured she already knew what had happened, though. Victoria, or a friend of hers, had likely run head first into their car. The denting and tire marks were consistent with the theory that they'd swerved to miss an animal, but had likely hit it and lost control of the vehicle. Bella reckoned it was true, only that the animal had really been a monster.

There was a deep finality the resounded within her as they'd left Florida and made their way to New York. Of course, with death often times came that sense – a sense of definitiveness, of a resolute ending. Some likened it to a peacefulness settling in, an acceptance of circumstances unchangeable.

Bella felt no such acceptance or peace. Instead, she felt the bitter finality of her childhood ending, the definitive hole in her heart that would always be reserved for her parents. Also, she felt a rage that burned her hollow. An anger so deep aimed not only at herself, but also at every last one of the Cullens – _at Edward_ – who all should've known better. They'd called her daughter, sister, and love alike, but had abandoned her to the ravages of a deranged mate. Whether they knew about the risk or not, if they really had cared, they would've taken care of Victoria _just in case_.

It was what Bella would've done – it was what Clint _did_ do by leaving her the cell phone. Family never completely leaves a member completely behind, not if they truly cared. Clint hadn't been able to be there for her, but he'd made sure he would be able to help her should she need it.

She knew her rage was echoed in Clint. He'd not directed an ounce of blame at her and reserved all of his hate and anger for Victoria and the Cullens. She'd been lightheaded with relief even as she still blamed herself, especially since she knew his life was dangerous enough as it was. The last thing she wanted was to add more to his plate, but he'd been adamant that he, and by extension S.H.I.E.L.D., could help her.

Bella doubted it. No matter their resources and money, in her mind, nothing could beat a vampire, especially one as vindictive as Victoria.

When she'd said as such, Natasha had smiled grimly and said a mysterious, "You'd be surprised at our own connections to super beings."

That was another thing that had caught her off guard. Natasha Romanoff wasn't nice exactly, but she spoke with a directness that Bella admired and carried herself with an air of danger that Bella flat out envied. She could see the small tell-tale signs of caring within her, mostly when she and Clint would talk quietly together, and occasionally when she'd awkwardly comfort Bella. But Natasha was remarkably calm even when Bella could tell she was upset.

Clearly, she was a woman who could handle herself even when faced with vampires and Bella was rather jealous of that.

Eyeing her from the corner of her eye as they made their way to a debriefing room, Bella thought that maybe she could ask her to teach her self-defense. Not just physically, but mentally as well. Bella was smart enough to know that it wasn't physical strength alone that made Natasha deadly competent. Sometimes the best defensive came in simply containing thoughts and emotions while making others lose theirs. She suspected _that_ was where Natasha truly excelled.

But she was still too intimidated by her to ask for such a favor. Sure, she'd likely say yes even if only because she was Clint's sister, but a forced agreement like that only led to resentment. Bella surprised herself by how much she wanted Natasha to like her; not just because she admired her as a strong woman, but because she so obviously loved Clint with a passion doused in ice and secured deep within herself.

And Clint damn near worshipped the ground Natasha walked on, so there was that.

She was happy that her brother seemed to have found someone that made him happy despite his dangerous life. She didn't imagine espionage and assassinations left a lot of time for dating, so she was happy that he hadn't been alone all these years. While Charlie and Renee had thought him dead, they'd still had Bella and hadn't been left alone. Clint, however, had been the odd man out. Often times, Bella would think of him, worry about whatever it was that had made him take such drastic measures to protect her and their parents. She'd worried about him trying to take on the world alone but seeing him with Natasha and knowing she'd been at his side for the majority of it, Bella's relief was absolute. She knew she owed the woman a great debt that could never truly be repaid. It seemed odd to ask her for another favor on top of it.

"Who are we meeting again?" He'd told her before, but her mind had been uncharacteristically spacey. It was all she could do to steer her thoughts away from the dark images of Charlie's body that haunted her constantly.

Clint gave her a worried look, but answered, "Phil Coulson. He's kind of the go-to guy around here."

She frowned, looking away as another agent glared at her. "Is he like your handler or something?"

Natasha snorted. "Or something."

"Actually," Clint smiled vaguely. "That's not a bad comparison. He has his hand in pretty much everything around here. He's Fury's number two."

That name she remembered. Colonel Fury had been the one that came to them in Phoenix, a folded up flag under his arm as he spewed condolences. She'd known it for a lie though he'd appeared genuinely sorry and sympathetic. Still, she remembered being irrationally angry at the man come to tear her family apart even if for a good cause. She wasn't exactly excited to meet him again, even if she was being unfair.

When they finally came to the room, Bella thought it looked vaguely like a conference room from an insurance office or something, only done up with stainless steel tables and chairs. It was vaguely intimidating.

"Agent Barton, Agent Romanoff," a voice greeted as the door opened and a man walked in, presumably Agent Coulson.

She studied the man quietly and was shocked at the rather nondescript appeal of him. He looked like an FBI desk jockey, or maybe an insurance salesman. Nothing about his appearance said _dangerous agent_ but she new his mild appearance could be deceiving.

"Hey Phil," Clint grinned.

Phil, as she'd correctly assumed, gave him an unamused look. "Fury's not too happy with you, Barton, so I'm not sure why your smiling."

Clint had taken the time to explain the name-thing to her, but it was unnerving to hear her brother referred to by a fake name, no matter if he wore it more surely than he ever had Swan.

"I'm not sorry," Clint said baldly. "What would you have done?"

Phil softened some and finally looked at her. She noticed the same suspicious glint in his eyes as she'd seen in others, but his was tempered by kindness. He looked almost apologetic for being skeptical of her.

"Hello," he said calmly. "I'm Agent Phil Coulson," and then he offered his hand to her.

Bella stood up straighter and accepted the handshake. His grip was strong and searching. Bella remembered Charlie telling her how a man could tell a lot about a person's handshake, so despite her fear and uncertainty, Bella squeezed his hand with equal direct firmness and said, "Bella Swan."

Phil's lips lifted some and Bella felt as though she'd passed some sort of test.

"It's nice to meet you, Bella Swan, though I regret the circumstances. Your brother tells us you have a bit of a situation we may be able to help you with. Tell me about it, please."

Uncertain, Bella looked to Clint who gave her a reassuring nod and obediently, Bella told her story of vampires and secretly worried if Agent Coulson, whose face remained perfectly blank, was ready to reserve a room for her at the nearest looney bin.

But as she fell silent, she was surprised when he addressed Clint and Natasha passively, saying, "We're not unaware of their existence. We've yet to make contact with them, but there's a large group within Volterra, Italy that have been on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar for some time now."

"You mean the Volturi," Bella interrupted, her mind going blank with shock as she remembered Carlisle telling her about them as he stitched up her arm.

Agent Coulson turned to her and gave her another searching look. "You know them?"

"No, but I know of them. They're kind of like vampire royalty. The coven is ruled by three brothers and they're kind of like the self-appointed rulers of the vampire world. They make sure that other vampires remain inconspicuous and that no humans can find out their secret. They're very powerful and very dangerous."

"Hm," Phil said, looking entirely unconcerned about having been spying on the ruling coven of vampires. "I suppose we should let them think they're still undetected then."

"Yeah, they probably wouldn't take too kindly in knowing there's a group of humans aware of them and capable of wiping them out," Clint said dryly.

"But are you?" Bella snapped, mildly annoyed at her brother's levity. "You haven't seen what they're capable of, Clint. As if their speed and strength alone weren't enough, some of them are gifted and are capable of killing you without even touching you."

"You mean they'll kill you with their brain," Clint interjected with an exaggerated shocked voice, his lips twitching as he fought a smile.

Bella's rant was effectively shut down at the reference to their favorite television show. She and Clint had watched _Firefly_ religiously and had even stayed up late one night after it'd been cancelled penning strongly worded letters of protest. Bella had been a little more polite and subtle than Clint had been; he'd simply hocked a loogie into a blank piece of paper, folding it up smartly and sending to the address for FOX Studios they'd found via google.

Unable to help herself, Bella erupted into a fit of giggles at the memory. Clint was laughing too and it she could feel the tension and years that had separated them melt away as if they'd never been. No matter how terrible the present circumstances were, she could always count on Clint to make her feel better, even if it was just a silly reference to their favorite show.

As their laughter trailed off, Agent Coulson cleared his throat and placidly said, "I also enjoy that show."

Bella and Clint lost it again. A good five minutes went past with them slowly controlling their laughter only to look at each other and start again. Phil watched them with a small almost-smile and Natasha tried to appear disapproving but even she couldn't hide the humoring light in her eyes as she stared at them.

By the time they were able to control themselves, Bella's gut ached and dried tears stained her cheeks. "I haven't laughed like that since..." the trailing thought sobered her even more and turned her smile sad. "Since before you left, big brother."

Regretting it the instant the thought was vocalized, there was a stab of sorrow to her heart when Clint winced. "I didn't mean it that way, Clint," she apologised.

"It's okay, Eyas. I know how you meant it." He gave her a reassuring smile that looked more like a grimace.

"Right," Natasha cut through the awkward moment. "So about that demented vampire after Isabella..."

"Well," Phil said. "We certainly have the technology to wipe out vampires on a global level, but one on one is a little more tricky."

Bella frowned and Natasha clarified, "We can't very well nuke a single vampire, but I doubt that coven in Italy would survive such an attack."

"Well shit," she said. The idea had never occurred to her that with the scientific advancements in modern technology that a vampires marble skin was, well, outdated.

"But to harness that type of an attack on a singular level is far more tricky," Clint said.

"We could always ask the Captain if he's ready to come out of retirement," Natasha proposed.

Phil shook his head. "It wouldn't hurt but doesn't exactly solve the problem of protecting Isabella and even the organization from within. This Victoria may be able to breach the building and it's a security risk if the agents won't be able to defend themselves properly."

"What about the tess – "

"That's not something you should be talking about, Agent Barton," a new person interjected sharply, and though she hadn't heard it in years, she recognized the voice of Colonel Fury instantly.

Bella turned and saw his gaze was fixed unerringly on her, his expression blank but vaguely intimidating.

"Isabella Swan," he said, and in her mind, Bella heard the follow-up words, _as I live and breathe_.

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she greeted him coolly, "Colonel Fury."

"Somehow," he shook his head but uncrossed his arms and looked slightly more welcoming. "I always knew I'd see you again."

She didn't know what to say to that so remained quiet, looking at Clint from the corner of her eye for support.

"Colonel Fury, I can explain," Clint began, but Fury cut him off.

"Explain? Explain what, exactly? How your sister called you on a phone she was never meant to have? How she delivered some news that had you and Agent Romanoff abandoning your posts, commandeering a harrier jet and abusing other S.H.I.E.L.D. Resources to satisfy your personal agenda...?"

Bella stood up straighter, poised to defend her brother and his friend, but Fury held a stalling hand up and continued, "No explanation needed, Barton. What else is family for?" he dismissed, his glare softening and the flat line of his mouth easing.

Nearly collapsing in relief, Bella sighed, her definsive posture dropping her shoulders into a tired slope.

"So what's this I hear about a vampire with a vendetta?"

Clint snorted. "That kind of sounds like a bad romance novel title... _Vampire with a Vendetta_..."

Bella pressed her lips together, but couldn't prevent her snort of amusement. It would have been naïve of her to think Clint was completely unchanged after five years, but it was reassuring to see that some things were the same.

"Well as I'm not in the business of penning trashy romances, I think it's about time you get to the point, Agent," Fury said, his head tilting to the side pointedly.

Clint stood straighter and cleared his throat. "Right away, sir."

He then proceeded to tell Fury everything Bella had told him, even though she was mildly certain the man had read it all in a file somewhere already.

"Hm," was all Fury said when Clint fell silent.

"Orders, Director Fury?" asked Coulson.

Seeming to come to some sort of decision, Fury turned to Phil and said, "Alert the Captain. He's our best bet against her unless the man with the hammer finds his way back down here. Stark was notified yesterday about a possible consultation. The suit may be equipped with weapons strong enough to penetrate a vampire's skin. It'll require testing but he may be able to develop something on a smaller for us to use as well."

"Tony Stark," Natasha stated slowly. "You sure that's the best idea, Director?"

Bella would have to have been living under a rock to not know who they were talking about. Though it sometimes felt that way in Forks, Bella had not been living with her head in the sand and had followed the story of Tony Stark and the Iron Man almost religiously. She actually thought he was rather brilliant... and extremely good looking.

And cocky, arrogant... but she took those traits at face value, viewing them as an extension of the armor he'd built to save lives.

She'd followed his story on the news diligently, her curiosity getting the better of her, and while she'd never been a typical teenage girl crushing on boy bands or actors, there'd just been something about Tony Stark. Handsome, charismatic, but even in the interviews she'd watched on the TV, she could see there were hidden depths to him.

So Bella's first celebrity crush was born, a secret she had guarded close to her heart. She realized the futility of it but it'd been harmless and surprisingly freeing to act like a teenager for once. There was nothing wrong, she'd told herself, with admiring a witty, good looking man who saved lives in his spare time.

"You know of another weapons expert capable of creating something seemingly impossible?" Fury asked.

"With all do respect, Director Fury, Tony Stark is – "

"Sexy, brilliant, incredibly good in bed... I can go on..."

Bella's heart skipped a beat and a blush tinted her cheeks. Though he sounded slightly different in person than on TV, there was no mistaking the voice of the person who had just swaggered in.

Natasha lifted a brow. "I was going to say arrogant, impulsive..."

Tony walked further into the room and Bella could make out his profile and a sharp gray suit that no doubt cost more than everything she'd ever worn put together.

"You see, you arrogant and impulsive, and I hear confident and good instincts."

"That is your prerogative," Natasha coolly allowed.

"Now why do you wound me so, Agent Romanoff? I'm here to help save the day, rescue the damsel in distress – speaking of," he turned to Bella and offered his hand, "Hello there, Damsel. I'm Tony, your knight in shinning armor, I'm sure."

Her cheeks grew hotter and she finally turned to face him, biting her lip as she accepted his hand. It was firmer than she thought it would be, roughened with calluses that spoke of strength and hard work. Instead of shaking it, he turned her hand over and planted a polite kiss of her knuckles, smiling in good humor as her mouth fell open and her blush spread further.

"Really, Eyas?" Clint glared at her knowingly, but still amused.

She shrugged and tugged her hand back, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. "What? He's funny... and nice."

"And the answer to your vampire problems. Come on now, sweetheart, tell Uncle Tony all about Icky Vicky and I'll cook you up something to take care of her."

Smiling, Bella once again repeated her story though she was equally sure that, just like Fury, he'd read it already in a secret file. She wondered why everyone seemed intent on hearing it from her, but gathered it was their way of confirming her tale, looking for inconsistencies. Or maybe they were hoping that each recounting of it would force her to look harder and deeper into her memories and possibly allow her to recall something that could be of use.

She doubted it. The only way to truly kill a vampire – that she was aware of, at least – was to rip them apart and burn the pieces. She told them as such, too.

"Sounds messy," Tony stated. "And smelly."

Unconsciously, Bella's hand drifted to the scar on her wrist. She remembered, even through the searing pain raging throughout her body, the smell of smoke and the sickeningly sweet scent that had burned her noes as James had been destroyed.

"It is," she said quietly.

Tony stared at her. She was worried she'd see something like pity in his eyes. It'd been one of her fears in telling so many people her story. Clint, she knew, would never pity her even if he adamantly wished she'd never experienced all that she had. Natasha just wasn't the pitying type, so Bella needn't worry there. Fury and Coulson had been coolly factual and vaguely polite with her. She had a feeling they saw her more as a case than a person, but thought that might change as they got to know each other.

But there was nothing pitying in the look Tony gave her. It was commiserating, if anything, not exactly sympathetic but empathetic. She'd been right about Tony Stark, her first and only celebrity crush, all along, Bella realized. Despite his sarcastic flair, he had a surprisingly soft heart.

"Well, Hells Bells," he said, breaking his stare and giving everyone else in the room a pointed stare. "Sounds like we've got work to do."

"You really think you can create something that can stop her? Even if only a little bit and this Captain person can finish the rest?"

Tony snorted. "You don't need that, grandpa – you've got me," he smiled at her and she smiled back. "You said their skin is like marble, right? Well, marble isn't indestructible. Give me a few hours, a day at most, and I'll have something we can start testing in my lab tomorrow. You know where it's at, right, sweetheart?"

She snorted. "Kind of hard to miss that eyesore."

Tony grinned. "That'd be the point." He looked over to Clint and said, "Bring her by around nine and we'll start testing. In the meantime, I'd recommend whipping her into shape if she's gonna be hanging around you troublemakers."

"You're one to talk," Clint said dryly. "But yes, some training would probably do you well, Eyas. I can train you starting tonight."

"No," Natasha said. "You'll be too soft. I'll do it."

Bella looked to her and smiled shyly. "If you don't mind. I don't want to be a bother."

Natasha's hard gaze softened slightly. "It's no trouble, Bella. Besides, it's best if you learn from another woman as there are certain... methods you can use to your advantage that your brother probably wouldn't be too happy about."

Clint grimaced.

"And that'd be my exit cue," Tony said.

"Don't think it's escaped my notice that you broke into a secret meeting, Stark," Fury spoke up. "It won't be happening again."

Tony gave him a mock salute. "Aye, aye, Captain!" Then he turned to Phil, "Pepper said to thank you for that casserole recipe. Turned out great."

Phil nodded with a small smile. Bella already knew it was probably the man's equivalent to a grin. "My pleasure."

"Agent Romanoff," Tony turned to Natasha. "Always a pleasure."

"I'm sure," she allowed with a smirk.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Robin Hood," he nodded to Clint then turned to Bella. "See you tomorrow, Hells Bells. Stay shiny."

Bella blushed even as her mind stuttered.

_How had he known they'd been talking about Firefly_...

Natasha rolled. "He's bugged the office. Again."

While sadness and guilt still weighed heavily on her heart, Bella felt a small part of her bitterness chip away as she lost herself in a fit of giggles.

Tony Stark was everything she imagined him to be and then some. She was looking forward to tomorrow.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN):** Hope you think Tony was as fun as I thought he was... also hoped you enjoyed the Firefly references too. One of my all time fave shows – and I get to meet Nathan Fillion in June!

Please review and let me know what you think... Next chapter: time with Tony and S.H.I.E.L.D. Also, a little glimpse of our favorite trickster :)


	5. Falling

**(A/N):** Just a couple days late... I was working on a new crossover site I have the good fortune of being an admin on pretty much all weekend. It's not live yet, but I look forward to sharing the details with you all later.

Also, my lovely friend 4Padfoot made a stellar trailer for this story. You can find it on my wordpress account or on youtube, links for both located on my profile. Fair warning, you may die of awesomeness overload! Also, I'm not a huge Kristen Stewart fan, never have been even before the Twilight movies, and I always imagined Emmy Rossum as Bella, so that's who is in the video. Won't hurt my feelings if you picture KStew as you read though – to each their own!

Happy reading...

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Falling<strong>

He fell. Through the cracks within space and the divide between the realms, Loki Laufeyson fell – out of favor, out of love, with his home and people.

Forsaken, the word rose unbidden. Abandoned. Forever cold in the shadow of Thor, the favored son.

Falling through a wormhole gave perspective, time for thought and reflection. Loki fell, kept alive only by his magic, sheer willfulness, and the power radiating in Odin's spear which he had caught when it'd fallen after him. He indulged in such contemplation until his mind went numb with the terrible burden of a lie fed to him from his infancy shattering, leaving the truth glimmering amongst the shards. Odinson and Asgardian he may not be, but he was still a prince by birthright and deserving of the throne so long dangled before him.

As Odin, his once father, had taken away the throne of Asgard and handed it to his bumbling oaf of a brother – well, Loki was just going to have to create his own thrown. His own kingdom united under the glory of his rule.

Cocooned in the safety of his magic, he envisioned it meticulously. Without a conscious decision, he pictured his dominion to be over Midgard, the Earth Thor so coveted. Thor had never been good at sharing his toys as a child and so Loki had long since learned to take what he wanted, not by force, but through the magic of his silver-tongue.

Yes, he decided, he would take Midgard right out from under his idiot brother. The thrumming vibration of his magic sounded in approval.

For all of Thor's brute strength, he understood little of the nature and power of the type of magic Loki and their mother, Frigga, possessed. Magic was sentient and had a will to thrive. It was more of a partnership or symbiotic relationship between magic and wielder. When Loki tired, his magic buoyed him. It had saved him more times than he was willing to admit, guided him throughout the years to his rightful path.

It protected him now, along with the energy in Odin's spear, keeping him alive after he had fallen from the Bifrost bridge and into the wormhole caused by its destruction. He'd counted on it, naturally, which is why he had let go in the face of his once father's denial. Thor had roared his name as he'd fallen weightlessly into the void but Loki's heart had already hardened against him.

He would show him. He would show them all what vengeance they had wrought by betraying him.

Again, his magic hummed but it tasted more of acceptance rather than approval. This was the correct path, Loki sensed, but the intuition his magic afforded him seemed to say it would not be the destination he predicted.

"Show me," he commanded, and like liquid fire, he felt his magic increase tenfold and searing heat shot through the spear, images rapidly overtaking his vision.

He saw much as he anticipated. Him with an army, conquering Midgard.

But then the vision turned and the expression on his future self's face smacked of remorse, of all the senseless emotions. From behind him, a figure moved forward. A woman, he could tell by the shape and silhouette of her curves. He could not make out her features but she had long, brown hair with a slight curl that blew in the breeze. The brown locks reached for him, latching onto his shoulder in a visible line connecting them. He saw his vision self tense at her approach before he relaxed in silent surrender. The woman slid her hand into his and Loki returned her grasp with equal fervor.

Loki hissed in denial and the vision cut off. Foolish magic, he sneered, knowing that his knack for trickery and illusions likely meant the vision was false.

False, he told himself as the picture lingered and he clung to the image of brown hair and curves, the silent show of support and affection in their clasped hands. False.

Never before had he been shown something so specific. More often than not, he was led by the increased intuition that magic gifted its casters, but had never been shown such images. He was unsure of what the new development in his magic meant, but suspected wielding Odin's spear, even for such a short time, had been like using a conduit, strengthening the wild nature of his sorcery.

Regardless, Loki pushed all thoughts away and concentrated on the sensation of falling, the sense of freedom it brought. He fell for a long time before he felt a force, similar to magic, but feeling vaguely sinister, stretch out and latch upon him, pulling him until he landed with a smacking thud on grey dirt, his breath heaving and limbs weary.

"Loki of Asgard," a voice hissed gratingly.

"No," Loki snarled, his fist curling around the spear. "I am Loki of Jotunheim."

"Hm," the hooded figure intoned. "Come with me. The master is expecting you."

Loki rose and despite a vague sense of misgiving, followed the creature to what he knew would be his destiny.

* * *

><p>There was not an inch of her that didn't ache.<p>

Bella laid in bed, focusing on the monotonous spin of the ceiling fan while trying to ignore the dull ache of muscles never used. Muscles she never knew she had.

Natasha had been predictably unsympathetic in their workout. Immediately after Tony Stark's departure she'd hustled Bella out from under Clint's wing and into a locker room, silently handing her a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. Wordlessly, Bella had changed, eager to prove herself an obedient student, part in thanks to Natasha for taking the commitment into whipping her into shape, but also in hopes that it might make easier to get to know the woman her brother loved, even if he had not confessed as much yet.

In her mind, she'd imagined a scene similar to Army movies when they cover boot camp training, but what had really occurred was something far more normal, though no less painful. After copious amounts of stretching, Natasha had her running laps until the cramp in her side threatened to have her vomit all over the pretty gym S.H.I.E.L.D. stocked to the nines.

"Keep going," Natasha had intoned as Bella started to lag, and gritting her teeth, Bella had stubbornly pushed the pain to the back of her mind and continued at her brisk jog.

When Natasha bid her stop, she handed her a towel and some water, instructing her to start stretching again.

"You're good with pain," she noted, stretching alongside her.

Bella was mildly annoyed, but not even remotely surprised, that the woman had not even broken a sweat after their run. Shrugging, Bella said, "Not really. Just stubborn."

She was reward with a small twitch of Natasha's lips. "Like your brother," she noted coolly, but Bella could detect the humor there.

Snorting, Bella said, "Everything I learned, I learned from him."

"Do you have his coordination?" Natasha asked and blinked slowly as Bella broke out into gasping laughs.

"Lord no," she chuckled. "I can trip over air. But I am observant," she confessed, giving Natasha a pointed look intended to inform the woman that she knew just what she meant to her brother. And more importantly, what Clint meant to her.

Of course, Natasha was nonplussed. "I've noticed," she said dryly.

Changing the subject, Bella asked, "So, what next?"

"We need to work on your core muscles, basically your stomach down to your thighs. Endurance is important, so we'll keep with the running as your warm up, but endurance won't mean a thing if you can't put any strength behind it."

"Are you going to teach me to fight?" Bella asked curiously, mildly excited at the thought. It vaguely reminded her of the time Clint had taught her how to throw a punch when Tim, their then neighbor, had tried to steal a kiss. Renee was a strong advocate of _make love, not war_ and had forbidden Clint to show her such things, but that hadn't stopped her brother once Renee had left for a date, or whatever artsy class she'd signed up for, leaving Clint to watch over her.

"Yes," Natasha said mildly, smiling slightly at Bella's small grin. "But only after we get you into shape and build your strength. There's a certain art form to fighting, at least the style I'll be teaching you. It's fluid and you have to understand and control each part of your body. Whereas some would teach you to rely on strength alone, I'm going to show you how to use someone's strength against them."

Seemed appropriate, Bella thought, as she may be fighting vampires and would be hopelessly out matched in the strength department.

"Why do I need to build up strength if the way I'll be fighting turns strength into a weakness?" she asked curiously.

"Because it'll turn _their_ strength into weakness, not yours. And you should never feel less than perfectly strong when faced with an opponent, especially as a woman. We will hone your entire body and you will adapt your fighting methods based on whatever scenario you find yourself in."

She knew it would be involved and while her excitement was still there, it was dimmed in the face of self-doubt. "Sounds intense," she said, biting her lip nervously.

Natasha read her perfectly. "It is, but it's doable. You have a lot of promise, Isabella. You listen to orders and don't hesitate to follow through, even when your body protests. Stubbornness will help you go far."

Bella relaxed somewhat. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Don't thank me," Natasha said. "It's not a compliment, but a fact. Besides, we're not done yet and you may be cursing me before the hour's up."

She'd laughed lightly, but little did she know how true Natasha was. Bella hadn't cursed her _out loud_, but with every squat, every push up and sit up Natasha barked at her to do, a new swear word flashed in her head and tickled her tongue. That handy stubbornness Natasha had praised was the only thing that'd kept them from flying from her lips.

That didn't stop her now that she was in her room, though.

"Son of a bitch," she moaned, giving her neck a testing stretch, frowning as it twinged.

There was a light knock on the door and Clint stuck his head in.

"How you feeling, Eyas?" he asked knowingly.

Bella snorted. "Like everything hurts. Even my toe nails hurt."

He chuckled and came into her room dangling a small bag in front of him as he closed the door behind him. "Who's your hero?"

"Depends... what's in the bag?"

He set the bag down on her nightstand and took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Lotion, drugs and a heating pack."

Bella grinned. "Then _you_ are my hero, big brother," she said, sitting up and propping herself up against the headboard.

"I'm sorry we have to sleep here at S.H.I.E.L.D." Clint said softly. "I know it's not the most welcoming of places, but without knowing where Victoria is, it's safer here. When we get her sorted, I'll take you to my super secret lair."

Bella sighed and smiled at his half-hearted joke. "It's not so bad. Room's actually bigger than the one at Forks."

Which was true. As cold and impersonal as the room was, it was surprisingly well accommodated. There was a full sized bed, a small attached bathroom with a standing shower, and even a TV attached to the wall. It was done in tones of grey which made the room detached from warmth, like a blank canvas waiting for color. It made her slightly more depressed. She had some photos taken with them from Forks, but she was scared to look at the smiling family portraits and kept them packed up, hidden under her clothes.

Clint smiled knowingly. "I'm staying here too, Eyas, just across the hall. I hate to tell you, but until we handle this Victoria situation, you're stuck with me."

"Oh the horror," she said in exaggerated disgust.

He bumped shoulders with her as he moved to sit up against the headboard next to her. "Pest," he smiled.

Smothering a laugh, Bella rested her head against Clint's shoulder, thankful for his comforting presence in this new environment.

"How you holding up, kid? We haven't really had much time to talk, need to know basics aside."

Bella shrugged in false indifference.

"Hey," Clint wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed comfortingly. "Don't be like that. This is me, Eyas. You know you can tell me anything."

"I'm just," she started, stopping briefly to clear her throat. "I just wish I could go back in time to when I met Edward Cullen and told him to go straight to hell like I should've done. I know you say it isn't, but how can it not be my fault? Mom and dad are dead because I fell in love with the wrong person."

"Mom and dad are dead because of a psychotic bitch, Isabella. Not because you fell in love. If you want someone to blame, Victoria's your target. Or better yet, we can blame that fucking vampire family that should have known better than to bring a young girl into their world and then abandon her to its mercy."

She sniffed. "Abandoned. That's exactly how I felt when he left me collapsed in the woods by Charlie's house. Abandoned and forsaken by them all. I think that's why I lost myself to grief so completely. It wasn't just Edward who'd discarded me like a toy, but the entire family. I thought," she took a deep breath as her voice quivered. "They made me believe they all loved me and yet they deserted me. Everything I had thought was true turned into this ugly lie. The others didn't even say goodbye, only Edward. If you can call what he did a goodbye."

"That wasn't a goodbye, Eyas. That was an act of cowardice. The fucker played on your insecurities and fucked with your mind. He'd probably been doing it the whole time you were together and you were just too innocent to know the difference."

A part of her wanted to deny it, but she could see the truth behind his words. Edward had always made her feel weak and helplessness, made her dependent on him in an unhealthy way, not just for approval, but protection. But she'd lived for seventeen years without his interference, without him there preventing her from tripping and stumbling through life. He'd always taken it upon himself to catch her in such moments of clumsiness and because of it she'd fallen more often, unable to find her own balance. He'd made her rely on him for even such basic things in her life as walking.

"I feel used, Clint," she confessed. "I don't even think I know who I am anymore. I'm such an idiot."

"Hey now," he whispered as she started to cry lightly. "It'll be alright, you'll see. I'll help you find yourself, Eyas."

Bella sniffled. "And I also feel guilty," she said lowly against his shoulder. "Because a part of me is so happy that you're here, that we're together again. I've missed you so much."

"I've miss you too, little sister, and I guess I feel guilty because I'm happy we're together too."

"I know you blame yourself for this too, Clint, for not being there," she said.

"If I had," he started.

"No. If you won't let me blame myself, then you're not allowed to blame yourself," she said firmly.

"Is that how this works?" he murmured dryly into her hair.

"Yes," she said stubbornly.

"Brat," he called her, pinching her side.

"Ow!" she yelped. "Careful! You're girlfriend packs a punch."

"Girlfriend," he muttered, pulling away. "That obvious?"

Bella grinned. "It is to me. You love each other very much. It shows in little ways. You've been through a lot with her, haven't you?"

He nodded. "Natasha and I have a long history. I've always been able to count on her for everything. She's saved my life many times."

"I'm glad you have her, and that she has you. It was always one of the things I was worried about after you disappeared. You were clearly into some serious business and I worried that you wouldn't have anyone you can trust or who would look out for you. It made me want to find you and hug you," she smiled.

"You know," Clint began quietly. "Just about everyone here has a codename, an alias of sorts. Natasha is called Black Widow – appropriate, I know. What do you think they call me?"

"I don't know," she said with a grin. "Angry beaver?"

He snorted at the reference of one of her favorite cartoon shows that he'd often humored her with watching. "Ha, ha," he said sarcastically. "But no. They call me Hawkeye, Isabella."

Bella froze, her mind going back to a summer with their father. He and Clint had wanted to go hunting and she'd tagged along with a book. Clint had always favored the bow and arrow. He'd been unerringly accurate and Charlie had crowed, "You've got the eyes of a hawk, boy!"

And without looking up from her book, Bella had chimed, "Yep. He's Hawkeye."

It'd been her nickname for him ever since, something she often called him teasingly but always with strong affection. He'd pretended to hate it at first, but on the rare occasions they'd fight and she was angry with him, he'd secretly long to hear the nickname from her lips. When she dropped Clinton and went back to Hawkeye he always knew he'd been forgiven.

Bella sniffled at the revelation.

"So you see," Clint said, his voice suspiciously hoarse. "You were always there with me. Every time I heard the name, I heard your voice and saw your face. It gave me strength and comfort."

There was a heavy, emotional silence between them until Bella said, "Well, do I get a codename? Is everyone going to start calling me Eyas?"

Clint snorted a laugh. "Nope. That's my name for you."

She nudged him with her shoulder again. "That hardly seems fair."

"Tough," he said. "Besides, do you really want to be known as baby hawk to everyone else? Once you're ready, you'll find a codename that reflects your inner strength and shows it to the world. But to me, Isabella, you'll always be Eyas."

"I love you, Clint," she murmured. "It feels like I've finally come home now that we're together again."

"I know, me too, kiddo," he said. "I'll leave you to get some rest. You probably need it after an hour in the gym with Natasha."

"Seriously," she playfully groaned. "That woman is deadly. But I like her," she smiled at him reassuringly.

"She's not so tough," Clint huffed. "I can take her."

"Bullshit," Bella called.

Clint laughed. "You only ever curse when I'm around, Eyas. I must be a bad influence."

Shaking her head, Bella gave him a hug even as she pushed him out of her bed. "You're the best influence, big brother. I can say whatever I want without fear of repercussion or judgment. Don't ever doubt that you make me better, not worse."

"You're so sappy, Isabella," he teased, but she saw the glint of pride in his eyes. "Now get some sleep. Take those pills and use the lotion – it'll help, I promise. We've got a big day at Stark Tower with your boyfriend tomorrow."

"Clint!" she hissed, tossing her pillow at him.

Laughing, he caught it and threw it back to her. "What? I think it's cute, Eyas. You're first celebrity crush. So adorable."

A wicked curse was poised to fly from her lips, but Clint quickly ducked out of her room in retreat. She could hear him chuckling in the hall.

"Mother fucker," she said under her breath, but found herself grinning at the comfort the familiar scene lent.

Quickly, she took the ibuprofen and used the lotion. She was too tired to bother with the heating pack, so she left it in the bag to use another day as she burrowed under the covers.

Though she was exhausted, sleep proved elusive. With every strange creak or thump, Bella found herself jumping or tensing in preparation for some unseen attacker. Eventually, exhaustion won out and she drifted off to a fretful sleep.

It was Clint bouncing on her bed that startled her awake the next morning.

"You jerk," she groaned sleepily, hiding her head under the pillow.

"Rise and shine, Eyas. Big day ahead of us."

She growled.

"Well, isn't that the cutest thing," he said mockingly. "Whatsa' matter? Did you not sleep alright?"

Bella shrugged, still refusing to come out from under the pillow. "It took a while to fall asleep, but when I did, I had some weird dreams."

Clint snickered. "Well, that's all a part of growing up, little Eyas. Don't worry, I won't tell Tony about how you..."

A pillow smacking him in the face cut him off. "You're such a jerk!"

"Alright, alright," he said lightly, taking her hand and hauling her upright. "I'll stop teasing. What were your dreams really about then?"

Bella frowned and looked off to the side. "It was the strangest thing. There was so much darkness, but it was broken up by bits of random shards of colorful light... and I was falling. It was a never-ending free fall and I felt so – so lost. Betrayed even. But also very angry."

"Strange," Clint murmured. "If only I had one of Renee's dream interpretation books," he teased.

Bella sniffed a laugh, shaking off the vestiges of the powerful images she'd dreamt. "Who really believes in that stuff anyway."

They shared a fond smile in remembrance of their mother.

"Come on, little bird. Time to start the day."

* * *

><p>Stark Tower was every bit as obnoxious on the inside as it was on the out. Everything was so shiny that it almost hurt to look at it. Bella imagined Tony paid a fortune just for a cleaning crew to come in and wipe away fingerprints from the glaring surfaces. It made her want to draw happy faces for them to find.<p>

"Hello Agents Romanoff, Barton," a brisk but friendly voice called out.

Bella turned towards an elevator and saw a tall, thin woman with ginger hair. She recognized her easily as Pepper Potts, Tony Stark's go-to gal.

"And you must be Isabella," Pepper smiled warmly with an outstretched hand.

"Bella," she corrected with a smile, accepting the handshake as she looked wide eyed around.

"A bit ostentatious, isn't it?" Pepper smiled confidingly.

Bella suppressed a grin and shrugged politely.

"Yes, well, that's Tony for you," Pepper said airily. Bella saw her eyes twinkle when she said Tony's name and felt a simultaneous jolt of warmth and jealousy over their obvious relationship. The warmth was a genuine happiness that they were obviously happy together, and the jealousy didn't have so much to do with the fact that Pepper was dating her silly crush so much as it was that Bella found herself slowly being surrounded by people deeply in love. It only highlighted her lonesomeness and made her heart twinge with envy.

Nonetheless, Bella smiled at Pepper as she led them all to the elevator punching in a special code to take them to Tony's lab. The elevator doors slid shut with a familiar ding, but once it started moving, Bella could help but laugh.

"Black Sabbath as elevator music, really?" she giggled as Ozzy Osbourne sang Iron Man.

Natasha rolled her eyes and Clint was smothering a grin. Pepper beamed and shrugged with a dismissive, "Tony," as if that explained it all.

It rather did.

When the elevator came to a smooth stop and the doors opened, Bella went wide-eyed in amazement. Controlled chaos was probably the best way to describe it. There were tools everywhere, loud tinkering sounds coming from one corner of the room where someone, presumably Tony, was tossing chunks of metal behind him.

"Jarvis, run diagnostics," Tony called out.

"Very good, sir," a disembodied voice intoned, radiating English politeness. "Tests show a probability of fifty-five percent success rate."

"That's not good enough," Tony said.

"No sir," Jarvis agreed.

"Tony," Pepper called out. "Your guests are here."

Breaking him out of whatever train of thought he was lost in, Tony started and looked over at them, a charming grin quirking his lips as he spotted her.

"Well don't be shy, Hells Bells, take a look around. Pretty cool isn't it?"

Bella smiled. "Yeah, actually it is pretty nifty."

Tony snorts. "Nifty she says."

"Oh I'm sorry," Bella rolled her eyes. "I meant to say messy."

"Sheath those claws, sweetheart. Come see what Uncle Tony made you."

Bella walked over, the others trailing behind her. In his hands, Tony held a contraption that vaguely resembled a gun.

"Um," Bella bit her lip. "It looks... complicated."

Tony rolled his eyes. "See this?" he pointed to a small piece of metal. "That's the trigger. You pull it and it goes bang, bang. Simple as that."

"Though it doesn't sound quite ready yet," Natasha pointed out, referencing the probability reading they'd come in hearing.

"Well who invited you, party pooper?" Tony quipped. "It's not quite ready, if you must know. I think it's time for a break. Anyone hungry? I'm hungry. Let's go get breakfast."

"But we just got here," Bella said.

"Yes," Tony agreed, setting the gun down. "And now we're leaving. I feel like crepes, anyone want crepes? Let's go to Ihop and get some crepes. Or maybe the rooty tooty fresh and fruity."

"Tony," Pepper said. "They just got here. Don't you want to show them what you've been up all night working on before you highjack their day?"

"I thought that's what I just did," he deadpanned. "Time for food now. I'm hungry, isn't anyone else hungry?" he asked, turning his eyes right at Bella.

Bella bit her lip. She actually was rather hungry. She hadn't been eating properly for weeks now and with recent events, her appetite had been even more absent and fickle.

"I am a little hungry," she confessed quietly.

Tony grinned. "See? She's hungry. Food first, work later, Pepper. Call a car."

Pepper arched a brow at him. "Call a car... what?"

He widened his eyes playfully and tugged a strand of her strawberry blonde hair. "Call a car _please_."

She rewarded him with a smile. "Very well."

"Man, she's got your number, doesn't she?" Clint asked wryly.

"Like you're one to talk, bird man," Tony retorted with a pointed look at Natasha.

They exchanged a few well meaning barbs, but Bella was distracted by the Iron Man suit against the wall. Slowly, she moved towards it and studied it. She'd seen it often enough on the television, but it really didn't do it much justice.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Tony asked, coming up behind her.

"That's one of many adjectives I'd use, yes," she admitted.

"You know," he said, his tone low and uncharacteristically serious. "Not all armor is made of metal. Sometimes the best thing to shield ourselves comes from within."

Bella half-smiled. "You sound like a psychologist."

"Well, I am a doctor, if that helps. I've got a couple doctorates lying around here somewhere."

"Is that what you do?" she asked abruptly before she could lose the nerve. "Shield yourself with your mind and wit, not so much with the suit."

Quirking his head to the side, Tony gave her a pointed look. "It's what we all do, Bella. Anyone who has seen the sort of things we have."

Bella nodded, accepting his silent show of support and not terribly surprised when he changed the subject. "Let's go before the Iceman Cometh."

"You have ADD, don't you?" she joked.

"Nope, I'm just ahead of the curve."

They turned to join the others. "And what do you mean Iceman Cometh... who are you talking about?"

"The Captain, of course," he said haughtily. "Big ole stick in the mud, that one. I say we ditch him."

A throat cleared over by the door and a voice said dryly, "Too late, Stark."

Bella turned and saw a tall man wearing average clothes, a button down shirt tucked neatly into kakis. His light hair was neatly combed and his blue eyes glinted with the air of someone in command. He was glaring lightly at Tony, but his gaze softened when it turned to her and he smiled politely.

"What's this I hear about a vampire?" the newcomer asked.

"They suck," Tony quipped. "More on that later, Rogers. We're getting breakfast."

Tony looped Bella's arm through his and marched towards the elevator.

"I really don't think now's the time," the new guy started, but Tony cut him off.

Pulling Bella into the elevator with him, he gave the whole room a cheeky smile before arching a brow at Rogers. "That's why no one asked you, Capsicle. And no one said any of you losers were invited."

With that, he hit the door close button and the elevator propelled them down.

"We're going to be in so much trouble."

"Yes," Tony grinned. "That's half the fun."

Despite her misgivings, Bella decided to throw caution to the wind and let Tony lead her to some extravagant car in his underground garage. Clint was already working to heal her shattered heart and Natasha was going to mold her body into the epitome of strength.

But Tony, she could tell, was going to teach her how to live wildly and without abandon.

She couldn't wait.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN):** So... Loki is a tough nut to crack, as I'm sure you can imagine. I knew he would be, so in preparation for tackling his POV, I watched several interviews of Tom Hiddleston talking about his take on Loki. It brought a lot of insight and even helped smooth out a plot point further along in the story... also, I got to watch Tom Hiddleston so yay! I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please leave a review and let me know what you think!


	6. Connections

(A/N): Sorry for the tardiness... After a week of feeling blah I fractured (not completely broke, thankfully) two toes, and let me tell you, life is crazy when you have to hobble around after a toddler and an infant! Not to mention the pain meds aren't real conducive to writing, lol.

Hope you like – please read and review :)

* * *

><p><strong>Set My Soul Alight<strong>

**Chapter 5**

"I really don't like that guy..." Steve Rogers muttered as the elevator doors started to close.

"I get the feeling it's mutual," Clint said in dry amusement, faintly smiling as Tony smirked at them from behind Bella. He might as well have given them the one finger salute while he was at it.

"Is it wise for him to be bringing her out in public when there's some sort of creature after her?" Steve asked.

Pepper spoke up. "Tony won't let anything harm Bella. If that vampire," she stuttered over the word as if still in disbelief over their existence, "finds them, he'll have the suit on in a heartbeat and get her to safety."

Steve turned to Pepper. "I don't believe we've met..."

Smiling, Pepper offered him her hand. "I'm Pepper Potts, Tony's... keeper."

Natasha's snort made Clint smile slightly. "She's the only one that can keep that man in line," Natasha informed Steve. "You need Tony Stark to do something, Pepper's your gal."

"Seems like Bella might be able to corral Tony some on her own. He likes her," Pepper interjected.

"He's known her all of five minutes," Natasha objected.

Pepper shook her head. "He had her life story within five minutes after Fury contacted him about her and her situation. Besides, Tony's more astute and sensitive than what most people give him credit for. She reminds him of himself, after Obadiah. That kind of betrayal from someone who is supposed to care for you, but has actually been lying to you the entire time while hurting your loved ones in the process... Not many people can relate to that. Trust me, he'll look after her."

Clint nodded. If he'd thought even for a moment he wouldn't, he'd have been flying after them by now. As overprotective as he usually was, that feeling had increased tenfold after Eyas had confided the events of her life over the past few months...

_I never should have left her alone_, he berated himself silently. It was a constant mantra that had him on edge when he was around her, ready to protect and defend where he had failed to before. He didn't think he'd ever forgive himself for leaving his sister to fend off vampires, of all things.

So as much as he wanted to chase after them, he stayed to help sort out things with the Captain. He knew she'd be safe with Tony and honestly, Isabella could use the distraction. As much as he loved being with her, he knew she was still keeping a brave front for him. Maybe Tony could get her to relax more and let go of some of that guilt she carried. No matter what he told her, she'd always write him off as biased and keep blaming herself until no one could convince her otherwise.

Clint was not just invested in her physical safety, but also her emotional and mental healing as well. As much as he wanted to wave his hands and make everything better, he knew it was going to be a process and it wouldn't always be him helping her. Natasha had already jumped in, and it looked like Tony was going to become invested as well. And with Tony, came Pepper, who maybe could lend a softer touch than any of them could.

"So I've read Fury's file," Steve began, breaking Clint's thoughts. "But I'd like to hear it from you, Barton. Sounds like your sister was dealt a bad hand and needs some help."

Another vague smile curled Clint's lips. Noble Steve Rogers would only be too willing to save the damsel in distress. He wondered if his sister had even a vague inkling of the power at her fingertips. Knowing her, she didn't, but the look Natasha was giving him confirmed her thoughts were well in line with his own. Should she choose, Isabella could have great power at her disposal, to be used however she saw fit.

_Lord save us if she ever meets the big green guy or the man with a hammer_... Clint thought dryly.

As far as he know, the Avenger Initiative was still in a holding pattern, but it was a guarantee that if he and Natasha were thinking it, so was Fury, and Clint wouldn't be surprised if the man used his sister to glue that unstable project together. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. The brother in him wanted her no where near trouble, which is where she'd be if she unknowingly became a part of the Initiative.

But the tactician in him saw the value. If one person could tie several powerful but vastly different individuals together and unite them under a common mission, then that person would be invaluable and it would be well worth the risk to their person. He wondered if that's why Fury had been so dismissive of his and Natasha's actions. They'd broken orders and several set protocols in their rush to get to Isabella, but the normally staunch Director swept aways their transgressions as easily as he swatted at a fly. Already, and without even knowing it, Isabella had at her disposal two powerful S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents willing to break all the rules to protect her. From there, it was a small stretch to the other Avenger candidates.

Of course, Clint knew a part of Fury had been genuinely supportive of Clint protecting his sister, the only family he had left. He wouldn't have approved, and even participated in his original plan, otherwise. But he'd be a fool not to be tempted by the potential Bella presented. Clint would have to keep an eye on the situation. As useful as it could prove to be, he wouldn't risk his sister, not even for the safety of millions of people.

That resolution firmly in mind, Clint turned to the Captain and said, "She's always been a bit of a danger magnet, but this time, we're all a bit in over our heads."

"Vampires," Pepper murmured, shaking her head as she fended off disbelief.

"Apparently," Steve said lightly, accepting in easy stride the existence of the mythical beings.

"Not like in the movies, though," Natasha said. "Impossibly fast, incredibly hard – like marble, and able to go out into the sun, though not inconspicuously."

Steve raised a prompting brow and Clint took great pleasure in being able to sneer, "Apparently they sparkle."

The Captain blinked slowly and deadpanned, "Sparkle?"

With a wide grin, Clint nodded and said, "Worse than any diamond. What a waste."

"Maybe," Natasha said lowly, ignoring Clint's joking. "Maybe that's why they're so hard and have that effect... maybe they're skin is close to diamond-like."

Pepper nodded thoughtfully. "It could explain both characteristics. I'll make a note to have Tony focus his testing around the ability to destroy anything with the hardness level of a diamond or higher."

"Already noted, Miss Potts," the disembodied voice of Jarvis chimed.

"That's all well and good," Steve said. "But what if this vampire arrives before Tony can create an effective weapon to fend her off?"

"Well that's where you come in, Captain," Clint chirped in false cheerfulness.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "What he means to say is, while Tony may be able to fend off an attack, to a certain extent, in his Iron Man suit, _you_ are the closest thing we have that can compete on the physical level. At least according to Bella's descriptions."

"So what?" Steve raise his brows. "Do I go track this vampire down or play bodyguard?"

"I doubt you could find her," Clint said, all jest gone from his voice. "And I don't appreciate your tone, Captain. Isabella may only be one person, but that doesn't mean she's not worthy of Captain America as her body guard."

Steve frowned. "I meant no offense, Agent Barton. It's just – when I woke up, Fury was telling me about having a second chance to be able to protect my country and all the good I can still do for Americans everywhere. Protecting a single young woman wasn't really what I'd envisioned. Truthfully, it's preferable. Fighting the world's evils is futile and tiring. History has already proven there will always be something to take their place once you take one whack job down. But helping people like this, small though it may seem, this makes a difference even if only to that one person. I'd be proud to protect your sister, Barton."

Now he knew why Tony called the Captain a boy scout, Clint thought, fighting the urge to roll his eyes again. Cheesy though he'd sounded, there was no doubt about his sincerity and again, Clint's mind wandered to what Fury was really trying to accomplish with her sister. It seemed like an awful lot of Avenger candidates were being thrown her way...

Time would tell, but he hoped that if she did end up becoming associated, in any form, with the Avenger Initiative, that'd she be able to handle it and herself. One thing was for sure, though; a long line of powerful individuals willing to protect her was rapidly forming.

Clint vowed he would always be at the front of that line.

* * *

><p>Tony watched her while shoveling a fork-full of scrambled eggs into his mouth.<p>

_Abandoned_ was the first word that came to mind as he noted her haunched shoulders as she picked at her food, followed rapidly by _exhausted_. This was a girl who'd been pushed to the limits, and while she'd not broken, he could clearly see the echoes of the bruises each rotten hand had left behind.

Dark circles underscoring her gaze, eyes glued to the floor, elbows and knees sticking out because of malnutrition... She looked remarkably like he had after being held for ransom in the Middle East, the dagger point of his life that had forced him to change, to wake up to the world around him. Then he too became abandoned, exhausted from fighting the demons he'd been blinded to in his own foolishness.

But she was stronger than he had been, he could see it clearly every time she was around that brother of hers. Already she was taking steps to strengthen herself, steps to face her own demons, impossible though they appeared to be to her. Still, she prepared.

A new word popped into his head as he studied her unabashedly. Survivor. Not necessarily a fighter at heart, but when it came down to the line, she was a survivor. The sparkly scar on her wrist told him that much.

Speaking of...

"I wanna run some tests on you," Tony blurted, spearing a sausage link with his fork and taking a bite.

Bella jerked in surprise, before a frown appeared as she registered his words. "Tests? On me? Whatever for?"

"That little mark on your wrist...?" he pointed to it with his sausage link. "It's more than just a badge of honor. Could tell me more about Icky Vicky."

Her hand covered the scar in a show of self-consciousness. "Badge of honor," she grumbled sarcastically.

"Yes," Tony insisted firmly, pausing long enough for her to look up and catch his eyes. "How many people can say that they were bitten by a vampire and lived, hm-m?"

Shrugging, Bella said, "Statistically speaking, I doubt I'm the only one."

Smiling, Tony agreed. "Yes, but you're one of a rare few. More than that, you are the only one with a genius, brilliant, heart-throb scientist at the ready. Your scar – it's different from the rest of your skin and different than normal scar tissue. If you look closely enough, you can see it glimmers in the sun and I imagine it slightly cooler than the rest of your skin?" he prompted.

Biting her lip, Bella grudgingly nodded and Tony gave her another smile. "See? You may not have turned into a sparkly vampire, but you weren't unaffected either. I bet that scar can tell me more about their physical makeup than you can imagine, which means we'll be better prepared to handle Icky Vicky."

"So," she said with a vague smile. "You're gonna turn me into your lab rat?"

Tony smirked. "Now you're getting it! I can even name you too! Hem or Haw? You look more like a Hem to me..."

Bella rolled her eyes and said, a small, sarcastic grin twisting her lips, "And you look like the one who moved the cheese."

Definitely not broken, he reaffirmed his thoughts with a grin. She may think and feel it, but Isabella Swan had fire in her yet.

And Tony was determined to stoke that flame until she burned bright again.

"You come here often, don't you?" she asked, changing the subject and breaking into his thoughts.

"Why little Bella, are you coming on to me? That is the mother of all pick-up lines and I would know," he teased, followed by a cheeky wink. He delighted inwardly when the tell-tale tide of red swept across her face.

There was another suspicion confirmed, he thought smugly, but also strangely touched by the fact. He was no stranger to lovestruck girls giggling and cooing after him, but Bella was one of the rare breed of women who saw him as a person first, billionaire, philanthropist, playboy second.

Honest, another flew to the front of his mind. Everything about the young woman in front of him was entirely genuine and honest. There were no false airs, no twittering and flirting because she wanted something from him. There was just a small, good-natured crush that she didn't let get in the way of interacting and joking with him.

Deciding to take pity on her, he let her off the hook from responding and asked, "What makes you say that?"

Taking a moment to allow her blush to subside, Bella finally responded, "No one's bugging you. The staff gives you space even while being polite, friendly and familiar. Our waitress hardly even blinked when you ordered, so I reckon you always order the same thing."

This time, the new word slipped out. "Observant," he noted. "And correct. I like this Ihop. Quiet, out of the way, and Cheryl – our waitress – has the cutest granddaughter that joins me for tea sometimes. And her grandson thinks Iron Man is just wicked cool."

Bella smiled and looked like he rather suspected he himself did when an adjective slipped into his brain describing her. He wondered what word it could possibly be, but then she spoke again.

"Clint says I'm observant," she smiled, a small hint of pride shinning through.

"Ah yes, the Hawk. He's equally observant, even if in a slightly different arena. It must run in your family."

"It does," she smiled, but then it froze and melted away right before his eyes. "It did," she correct sadly and the moment of levity washed away as though it had never been.

"Will," he said firmly.

"What?" she frowned at him.

Quirking his head, Tony confided knowingly, "Tenses are the hardest part. I always found that it helps to not think in the past or present tense, but in the future. Being observant _will_ continue to run in your family."

Bid 'ole tears filled her wide brown eyes and Tony felt the stirrings of a strange, foreign emotion in his gut, far to strong to be merely indigestion. It was too strong, too familiar to be be sympathy and he realized right away what it was. Empathy. Tony could completely identify and empathize with this little girl from some pissant town in Washington.

Strange, a word arose unbidden again. Something about Isabella was strange, but not necessarily in a bad way. She had a siren like ability to call people to her, people who would normally not give someone like her the time of day. The Hawk was obvious, being her brother and all. Anyone could see he was completely doting of her, their bond uniquely strong for siblings with such an age gap.

But Natasha had been surprising. Of course, where the Hawk went, Natasha would follow and vice versa, but Tony had been mildly caught off guard by the honest affection glimmering in Black Widow's eyes when she'd look to Bella. It was more than an obligation to get along with her because of her relationship with the Hawk, something about Bella had impressed the cool-hearted agent and had won her over, an incredibly impressive feat.

And naturally, the Captain would all but fall in love with her once they spent some time together. A shy, quiet girl such as herself, but who still carried an impressive inner strength... yes, the Captain would come to admire her as well.

Wheels whirled along in Tony's head as he thought about the possibilities and a new word, one he would've never thought to associate with the petite, gentle girl before him, slammed into his mind, a visceral warning he instantly chose to ignore: dangerous. Isabella Swan could prove to be quite dangerous if they weren't careful. She seemed to draw danger while simultaneously inspiring people to rise up and fight against it. A dangerous combination, indeed.

Still, the previous adjectives in his mental list of words describing Isabella Swan had him confident she would never presume to use her friends, or her apparent superpower, for evil. She was a good egg all the way down to her core and maybe to her own fault.

But the list of people drawn to her was impressive nonetheless: several vampires, a former assassin, former KGB spy, the man out of time... and Tony himself, a brilliant though admittedly egotistical, superhero.

He could only imagine who would be drawn to her next and prayed, for her sake, it would be some boring accountant.

_Doubtful_, he thought wryly as she finally finished her meal, looking happy and proud of herself as though she'd completed a 5K marathon instead of simply ate breakfast. No, the next person drawn to her was unlikely to be simple or boring.

But what was life without a little danger, he thought eagerly.

Without the distraction of her food, Bella appeared to get lost in her thoughts and that broken, haunted look took over her features once again.

"Dine and dash," he said abruptly.

As he'd known it would, the non sequitur wrenched her away from her gloomy thoughts and had her looking at him in confusion.

"What?"

"Dine and dash... you ever do it?" he grinned.

"Never," she gasped, affronted at the idea. "And we shouldn't," she ended firmly, already knowing where his mind was off to.

Tony smiled. "You're right. Terrible thing to do, not to mention illegal... We really shouldn't."

Bella nodded.

"Alright, twist my arm, you talked me into it," Tony said, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the booth, running at a brisk jog to the front door.

"Tony!" she gasped, but he could hear the hint of a smile in his name.

Smirking, Tony looked back and winked at their waitress Cheryl, knowing she'd find the hundred dollar bill tucked under his empty coffee cup where he always placed it for her.

"Quick Hells Bells," he said laughingly. "We don't want the cops to come!"

He chuckled under his breath as she tripped over her own feet as she tried to run faster, laughing as Tony used his grip around her hand to haul her back up.

"It's not like they couldn't just tell them it was you if they do call the cops," she pointed out.

"Well there you have it," Tony said as they came up to his car and climbed in. "It's a life on the run for us now, Hells Bells."

Rolling her eyes, she smiled, her cheeks flushed and a light in her eyes. Tony felt a surge of pride for having put it there.

"Come Jeeves, back to the tower," Bella said airily, followed by a pompous, "Chop chop!"

Laughing, Tony threw the car in gear and turned up the stereo as ACDC's _Hells Bells_ came on. He'd cued it up right before they went into the restaurant. Bella snorted, giggling as he started to sing obnoxiously loud and terribly off tune.

A rising swell of victory flooded him, however, when she joined in at the end, equally loud and obnoxious.

* * *

><p>Clint broke off mid-sentence as the elevator began to ding as it approached their floor.<p>

"Finally," he muttered, pulling away from the table he'd been leaning over as they talked strategy for the upcoming weeks.

The elevator gave on last ding and stopped but before the doors open, Clint and the others could hear terrible, ear splitting singing.

"_Has he lost his mind?  
>Can he see or is he blind?<br>Can he walk at all,  
>Or if he moves will he fall?<br>Is he alive or dead?  
>Has he thoughts within his head?<br>We'll just pass him there  
>why should we even care?<em>"

The doors sliding open might have well been curtains rising at the theater for the show they found themselves privileged to.

Tony was rocking the air guitar with impressive enthusiasm that made Clint tired just watching. Eyas was wearing Tony's sunglasses while swaying her long, brown locks in an easy head-bang as she sang into her fist, Tony singing along with her.

"Well hi there," Natasha broke the tableau, but only after Pepper pocketed her phone after recording the scene.

Eyas instantly froze, her cheeks turning an impressive red as she snatched the sunglasses off her face and hid them behind her back. Tony, however, merely nodded in greeting and carried on, completely unconcerned as he walked into the lab.

"Don't stop on our account, Eyas," Clint teased, exceptionally pleased to see the light finally back in her eyes.

He shot the still dancing Tony and thankful glance which the man returned with a deceptively dismissive shrug. Still, Clint saw the genuine affection in the man's eyes as he threw Isabella another wink.

"Did I hear someone say encore?" he teased.

"No," Pepper laughed. "Please don't."

"This is a very strange workplace," Steve noted. He turned to the still blushing Bella and held a polite hand. "We didn't get the chance to meet properly earlier," he shot an accusing glare to Tony. "I'm Steve and I hear you've got a vampire problem...?"

Biting her lip, Bella nodded and accepted his hand. "Um, yes, if by problem you mean one is hunting me and my loved ones down in some sort of elaborate revenge plot."

Steve smiled slightly and leaned forward to say conspiratorially, "Well, we'll just have to stop her then, won't we?"

Smiling, Bella nodded, dropping his hand to move to stand by Clint, leaning her head against him and hugging his arm. Clint watched the way the Captain's eyes followed her with a curious gleam.

_Another bites the dust_, he thought as he and Natasha shared a telling look.

"Thank you big brother," Bella whispered to him.

Smiling slightly, he leaned down to ask her quietly, "For what?"

"Letting me go off with Tony," she said, looking up at him. "I know a part of you didn't want me to, but it was fun. He's fun."

Clint smiled and kissed the top of her head. "I'm glad you had fun, Eyas. You deserve it."

She gave a small shrug in silent disagreement, but knew better than to say as much aloud.

"No! What is this crap?" Tony called out. "Who told Jarvis this nonsense about diamonds?"

"I told him to note it," Pepper said firmly with a challenging glare.

Tony beamed. "Well thank you, Pepper. So thoughtful of you. Ten points to Ravenclaw for science-y thinking, even though you're wrong."

"Are we?" Natasha raised a brow.

"Absolutely," Tony said without hesitation. "I believe we were working with marble, isn't it? Not shiny rocks."

"We just figured, what with the sparkling," Steve began, but Tony cut him off with a loud, "EHHH! Wrong!"

Steve sighed and crossed his arms. "Enlighten us then."

"Hells Bells," Tony called, holding out his hand for her.

Bella pulled away from Clint and went over to him. Tony gently took her hand, turning it over and lightly traced her scar.

With a quiet smile, he said, "Hold it here and keep it steady."

She nodded and held still as Tony turned on some sort of device that scanned her arm, honing in on the scar as it projected a holographic, 3D map with numbers and compositions flickering and calculating.

"Analyzation complete, sir. Probability dictates eighty-nine percent likelihood of a marble composition," Jarvis intoned.

"See?" Tony grinned, pulling Bella's arm away from the device with a patronizing pat to her wrist. "Marble, not diamond."

"So basically, we're fighting sparkly monsters made of stone?" Steve said.

"Listen up, class," Tony said. "Marble, and granite for that matter, is made up of what?"

"Um... rock?" Clint said, but Bella quietly corrected with the more specific answer of, "Crystals."

Tony gave her a pleased smile. "Exactly. Interlaid, interwoven tiny bits of crystal... You were told their skin was like marble, which would also explain the sparkle effect," he smirked.

"But," Bella interjected with a tiny smirk of her own. "A diamond is higher on the Mohs scale of hardness, so it wasn't necessarily a bad note of them to make. They go above and beyond where you just do the minimum."

Ignoring the slight, Tony shot her an appraising and vaguely suspicious look. "Someone knows her science."

Bella smiled. "It was one of my best subjects, though not my favorite."

"So you could tell all that by scanning her wrist?" Steve asked, clearly confused.

"From her scar," Tony added. "Though some blood tests wouldn't be amiss as well. We could see if there's any trace of that venom lingering."

Bella turned a bit green at the idea and Clint snickered.

"From what I've read about in the file it seems like an impossible scar to have," Steve said gently.

"Not impossible. He clearly just didn't want me, is all" Bella muttered, her spine stiffening. Her reaction instantly had Clint wanting to deck the Captain for his observation, no matter how well meaning.

Before he could, however, Pepper went over to Bella, throwing a comforting arm around her. "You know what you need?"

Frowning, Bella joked half-heartedly, "A new life?"

Pepper shook her head smiling. "Nope. You need some cookie dough."

"Cookie dough?" Bella said woodenly.

"Yep," Pepper chirped. "And 80s romantic comedies. Girls night."

"Like... a slumber party?"

"Exactly, and I won't take no for an answer." Pepper turned to the rest of them and fixed Tony with a pointed glare. "Don't you come home tonight. Girls only."

"But what if I wanted my hair braided?"

"Ask Clint," Pepper smarted, then turned pointedly to Natasha. "You too. You're coming."

Clint snickered as Natasha looked wide-eyed and stuttered, "I am?"

"Well you're a girl, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Good. You go get some ice cream and other goodies – I'm talking the whole nine yards here, Romanoff. Meet us back at Tony's place after."

Pepper pulled Bella back towards the elevator and Natasha trailed after them after receiving a sharp look from her.

"Um. Bye, I guess," Bella said as she was tugged into the elevator.

Natasha shook her head, but didn't look truly upset about the new development. Pepper obviously couldn't care less about how her plan was being accepted and merely gave them a distracted wave from behind her shoulder, not even dignifying them with a glance goodbye.

A small ding and the elevators closed once again.

"Why does everyone keep stealing my sister?" Clint grumbled.

"And how are we supposed to protect her if we're not allowed to even be with her?" Steve asked.

Tony shook his head. "You may be the Captain, but that there is a General and I'm smart enough not to go against her orders."

"What are we supposed to do now?" Steve mumbled, looking for all the world a put out school boy.

Tony looked from him to Clint. "Anyone up for Chinese tonight?"

* * *

><p>(AN): So the bonds are forming! Hope you enjoyed reading... Next chapter will have some more Loki and then we're getting to the start of the Avenger movie plot, which means Loki and Bella will meet! As always, love hearing from you if you have the time to review!


	7. A Dream Collision

(A/N): Sorry for the delay, had some family out visiting :) There seems to be a lot of new story readers/followers/faves lately - hi and thank you all for reading! I think it's cool so many of you are giving such a crazy crossover a chance! Happy reading:)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6: A Dream Collision<strong>

Tiny beads of sweat puckered his brow as he gasped for air.

"You are not ready yet," a sibilant voice spat in disgust.

Loki's jaw clenched as he fought the urge to cry out in pain. "I am a god," he spat viciously, masking his emotions with hate. Fury had his muscles aching as he fought the urge to thrust Odin's spear satisfyingly through the creature's gut.

_Too soon_, his magic hummed in confirmation and Loki's fist, which had unconsciously tightened around the spear, unfurled as he took a steadying breath.

"You are but a speck," the creature hissed. "Overshadowed by The Other's might and power. You would do well to remember who the real master is."

_Isolent fool_, Loki thought, but maintained his tongue. Whether he liked it or not, his plans required submitting to this creature and his hitherto unseen master. Through them, he would gain the power necessary to conquer Midgard as well as gain control of the Chitauri army.

"He will give you great power," the creature hissed invitingly as though he could hear Loki's train of thought. "He will make your Gungnir look like a whelp's toy."

Looking down at the spear in question, Loki admitted there was a certain appeal to defiling Odin's precious spear, molding it into the instrument of Thor's precious Midgard's domination. The symbolism alone was priceless and just the thought of the horror on their faces made Loki grin.

"The tesseract has been found," the creature continued to sway him. "Through it, The Other will grant you great power. With his assistance, you will truly become the God you profess to be and you will answer to no one; no one save the Titan."

Well, that was something, Loki gave a mental nod of agreement, though he was still reluctant to hand the spear over only to become beholden to the one referred to only as either Master or The Other. Although the new addition of the moniker Titan had his mind spinning with possibilities.

More to the point, he was reluctant to acknowledge anyone as his Master.

But still, he felt the push of his magic to submit, if only temporarily, to this being known as The Other. It was a necessary evil to the correct path his magic was pushing him to traverse.

Like a persistent gnat buzzing, the image of the woman flashed in his mind once more; it was an unshakable picture, constantly haunting him when he least expected it. Her features remained undistinguishable, but left a vague impression of a fragile beauty that Loki grudgingly found extremely appealing. Each time her visage appeared it was just as quick to abandon him, leaving him with a hollow emptiness that sat heavy on his chest.

Refusing to acknowledge the ghostly image and the implications of his magic consistently pulling her to him, Loki made a snap decision.

"Bring me to your Master, creature." Only when he met The Other and was assured of the power to be had with tempering Gungnir using the tesseract would he hand it over. Only then would he deign submit to The Other as his temporary master.

The creature grinned, exposing two rows of rotting teeth as he gave a mocking bow of acquiescence.

As Loki followed the creature his mind remained reluctant though his magic thrummed acceptance, approval even. For some reason, he pictured the uninvited woman and his hand tightened around the spear and he started walking taller. Without meaning to, her image filled him with new certainty and each step he took after the creature carried the resounding thud of fate... or the possible toll of a death knell.

The woman's face lingered on the edges, a siren he suddenly found himself chasing.

* * *

><p>"Are you alright?"<p>

Bella started and turned to Natasha who was staring at her with her usual observant gaze.

"What?" Bella asked.

Tilting her head slightly, Natasha nodded towards Bella's hand which was rubbing her chest directly above her heart. "You've been doing that off and on all night," Natasha stated. "Are you alright?"

Frowning, Bella lowered her hand to her lap. Her chest twinged again, a hollow ache that somehow seemed deeper than it ever had before. "I hadn't realized," she said distractedly. "But I'm fine. Heartburn, I think."

It was clear Natasha didn't believe the white lie, but she allowed Bella the out by saying, "Well, we have consumed an unnatural amount of junk food."

"You're the one that also bought vodka," Pepper pointed out and Bella smiled as she remembered Natasha patiently patting her back after her first shot of alcohol burned down her throat. She hadn't imbibed much and the small buzz she'd acquired was already wearing off, but Bella had felt wildly adventurous even though she'd made both girls swear not to tell her brother about the drinking.

It was hard to tell with Clint sometimes. He'd either slap her on the back and congratulate her for finally acting like an average teenager by sneaking a drink, or he'd get overprotective and freak out because he wouldn't have been there if something had gone wrong. As if Natasha and Pepper weren't fully capable of handling any given situation that may arise, she mentally rolled her eyes at the thought.

Shrugging with a small smirk, Natasha said, "I don't know much about having a girls' night, but it seemed appropriate."

"I thought it was kind of cool," Bella said supportively.

And really, she rather suspected Natasha knew exactly what she'd been doing by bringing a bottle of vodka to their little slumber party. When she and Clint had talked over her life during his absence, focusing mainly around her relationship with Edward, it hadn't exactly been a secret that she'd been smothered under his stifling sense of protection. She'd never noticed it at the time, but Bella had slowly given up little things that she enjoyed whenever Edward expressed a distaste to them.

Like her music. While Bella had always enjoyed the dulcet sounds of classical music, she'd also equally enjoyed the thumping bass and trilling guitars of rock music. Just thinking about it threw her mind back to her and Tony's little rock opera in the elevator at Stark Tower and made her smile. Her life had once been peppered with little carefree moments like that, but had stopped entirely after she'd started dating Edward. It'd been all about his interests, his thoughts and beliefs.

One thing was now absolutely certain to her: with Edward, she'd been pigeonholed into one facet of her personality, unable to take chances or try new things because he'd already type-casted her character in relation to his. He'd never actively kept her from her other interests, but he'd been so overwhelming in his dazzling way that she'd simply let them fallen to neglect. She'd neglected herself in favor of supporting him.

The thought pricked her stubbornness and Bella reached for the forgotten bottle of vodka and took a deep, rebellious swig from it.

"Feel better?" Natasha asked while Bella started hacking, still unused to the bracing burn.

Wiping the small tears from her eyes, Bella nodded and gave a definitive, "Yes!"

"Hm," Pepper gave Bella a studying look. "Perhaps the vodka was the right call."

Smiling, Bella patted Pepper's arm in consolidation and said, "But I also enjoyed the cookie dough."

Pepper snorted a laugh and Natasha cracked a smile.

Feeling a new warmth unfurl in her stomach that had absolutely nothing to do with the vodka, Bella said in a quiet voice, "I've never done anything like this."

"What, drink?" Pepper scoffed. "Yeah, we can tell."

Bella gave a tiny grin, but said, "No – this whole girls' night thing. I was never one for girl bonding, and I didn't really have a lot of friends."

That was another thing she now suspected was due to Edward. While she'd always felt secure in her own, or in limited company, she'd sacrificed her entire social life for Edward. He'd been quick to shoot down her meager smattering of friends in Forks, using his mind-reading to poison her against them. Sure, some of them weren't deep thinkers and often thought selfishly, but who in the world didn't think things they shouldn't? After all, they were in the safety of their own mind and really couldn't be held accountable for things they'd never said or done.

But Edward had played their judge, jury, and the executioner of the fledging friendships she'd had with them. Though his gift only allowed him to hear surface thoughts, he hadn't let that stop him from convincing Bella that they were people unworthy of her time and friendship.

And like the young fool she'd been, she'd taken his comments to heart and had so easily drifted away from them, her entire time devoted only to Edward and his family.

"It wasn't right," she mumbled.

"What wasn't right, dear?" Pepper asked with a frown.

Natasha was, again, suspiciously silent as her eyes bored into Bella.

"The way he treated me," Bella whispered. "Maybe I was too close to the picture at the time, blinded by first love, but I didn't realize how much I had become dependent on him or how much of myself I sacrificed in order to fulfill his perception of me."

They both turned silent as Bella shook her head softly at her own foolishness.

"Men, or in this case, _boys_, from Edward's time period were often that way, Isabella," Natasha pointed out kindly, but firmly. "Women were often expected to set aside their own interests in favor for that of their husband's. Whether he did this on purpose or not hardly matters. He mistreated you and isn't worthy of your love. Get over him."

"Well don't sugarcoat it," Pepper murmured dryly.

Natasha lifted her head. "And why would I sugarcoat it for her? Isabella is not a child. She's seen more in her eighteen years than most people could see in a hundred lifetimes. It'd be a disservice to lie to her."

Pepper sat up and grabbed a bag of jellybeans. "Now no one said lie, Natasha. I'm just saying you can be nicer about it."

"She doesn't need nice," Natasha insisted before turning back to look at Bella. Despite her words, her expression and tone was softened as she said, "You'd be a fool if you thought yourself the only one to ever fallen in love with the wrong person. Yes, your circumstances were, well, stranger than average, but that's ultimately what it comes down to. You fell in love with a guy who turned out to be a dick. You're not the only girl that's ever happened to and you won't be the last."

"I wish," Bella started and then cleared her throat of the tears clogging it and continued, "I wish I could go back and do it over again. I should've stayed away from him like he warned. Turns out, he really was a monster though not in the sense he meant."

Pepper put a comforting arm around her. "There's no sense in wishful thinking, Bella. You can't change the past, only learn from it."

Swiping at her tears, Bella nodded even as more fell.

"You need to forgive yourself," Natasha said. There was a strong underlying sense of a command to the sentence.

"I don't deserve forgiveness," Bella muttered, bitterness turning the words ugly and guttural.

Pepper's arm tightened around her and Natasha's slightly softened expression immediately hardened into a glare that stated _don't-be-an-idiot_. "Tell me," Natasha began with a poised brow. "If the roles were reversed and Clint was sitting where you're at... would you blame him? Would you think less of him for it?"

Bella's eyes widened, and even though she knew exactly what point Natasha was trying to make, she still instantly proclaimed, "Absolutely not!"

Natasha's look turned pointed. "We are always harder on ourselves than we should be," she stated. "Your expectations and standards are too high. You made a mistake, yes, but you were a victim of circumstances. You didn't kill your parents, Isabella. Place the blame where it truly belongs – the vampires that set you up to fail and the vampire that struck the killing blow. They're the ones responsible and we will find a way to hold them accountable for their actions. It's time to grow up now and if you're upset about something in your life, stop crying and do something about it."

A shocked laugh bubbled and Bella gave a strong sniff as she pushed her tears back. "So this is the tough love speech."

Shrugging, Natasha said, "More of the speech you need to hear."

"But you need to hear it while eating more cookie dough," Pepper announced, shoving the tube of chocolate chip cookie dough into her hand. "Go on now," she gestured with her hands. "Eat. It'll take the sting out of Natasha's tough love."

Bella sighed and took an obliging bite as she shrugged Pepper's words off. "She said nothing but the truth. To be honest, I hate wallowing and that's all I've been doing since Edward left me in the woods. I've been very _woe is me_ and completely lost sight of the truly important things in life and when I did start to remember it was only to come face to face with real tragedy. I thought I knew pain after Edward left me the way he did, but I was an idiot. That was nothing," her voice trembled in both sorrow and fury as the memory took over. "_Nothing_ to coming home and finding Charlie's body with that note..."

Peppers hand squeezed her shoulder so hard Bella feared she'd bruise. But the grip was comforting, steadying in the face of her confession. "And it was nothing to the fury that it spawned. I've never hated anyone until I saw Charlie's body and realized just what Edward and his family had really done when they _abandoned_ me; betrayed and forsaken."

Unconsciously, Bella's hand rose to her chest once more and massaged the dull ache over her heart. The pain was both familiar and alien. It tasted entirely different to anything she'd ever felt before and instead of having the twang of self-awareness it felt like she was experiencing it second-hand; it was kind of like the sensation of feeling the vibrations running through a taut string when plucked, only she wasn't the one doing the plucking.

"Hate can be good," Natasha noted, un-phased by Bella's uncharacteristic show of anger even as her keen eyes studied the way she rubbed at her chest almost compulsively. "It can be purging, a fire that rages but also clears a path for new life. Don't let the emotion rule you, Bella, but you can let it motivate you."

"What she means is," Pepper fixed them both with a fierce glare. "Don't lose who you truly are to your hate, otherwise this Victoria and even Edward Cullen win. Think in terms of justice, not revenge. As angry as you are, don't let it suffocate you."

"I think I'm more angry at myself than anyone," Bella noted wryly.

Natasha gave a dismissive shrug. "Hindsight is 20-20."

"You know what you need?" Pepper said, her voice bright and chirpy. "_Earth Girls are Easy_."

Bella snorted a surprised laugh. "Say what now?"

Natasha even cracked a grin. "And here I thought you were going to say more cookie dough."

Throwing a pillow at them, Pepper gave a small laugh. "I'm just saying we could use a little laughter after all of that heavy talk and who doesn't love the idea of a perfect, handsome, horny alien man sweeping them off their feet?"

Groaning, Bella said, "I'd rather meet some nice, quiet boy. No fuss, no drama. Maybe an insurance salesman or something boring like that."

"Sorry Bella," Natasha shot her a mocking look of pity. "But given your past and the people you currently hang out with... normal just ain't in the cards."

"Normal's overrated anyway," Pepper said airily as she plopped back down on the couch after popping in the DVD.

"Alright then," Bella said in exaggerated annoyance. "Bring me a hot alien man then. I see there's no one on Earth fit for me!"

"Ha!" Pepper laughed. "Now that's the spirit!"

After the first few scenes, Bella found herself grateful for such a lighthearted movie. It was almost surreal how cliché the three of them ended up being for the rest of the evening. They talked back to the TV, threw popcorn at each other (though Natasha's aim was wicked and almost took out Pepper's eye). They talked boys some, Bella delighting in Natasha's barely concealed awkwardness about her genuine emotions for Clint while also pleased for Tony that he too had found a strong woman fully capable of keeping up with him.

The talk didn't make her feel jealous as she might have thought it would. There was some vague sense of nostalgia and a hint of longing that were both greatly overshadowed by her genuine happiness for her new friends.

Friends. The label made her feel ridiculously sappy and she kept the sentiment to herself throughout the night, but it felt so wonderfully light to have friends. Real friends that she could talk to about anything, even vampires. Even in Edward hadn't pushed away her meager group of buddies, she never would've been able to confide in them as completely as she was able to with Pepper and Natasha. Yes, they were both older than her, but Bella had always identified more with the more mature. She blamed Clint for that really, because even she knew their close relationship was rather odd given their age gap.

Pepper had mentioned it in passing, trying to be polite about it but so obviously curious about how and why she and Clint were so close.

"Clint took on a lot of responsibility when I was born. Our parents were never really happy together, but my arrival was kind of the straw that broke the camel's back. Renee received full custody of us and while she was a fun and loving mother, serious and responsible she was not. Clint was like my parent and brother rolled into one person. When I got scared in the middle of the night, he was the one who chased away my imaginary monsters. He fixed bandaids over my cuts, fixed me meals when Renee was off working or at some art class."

Bella stared off in the distance as the memories assaulted her. There was a sharp twinge of grief when she pictured Renee's face, but it was buoyed by the happiness of her moments with her brother.

"I guess it started off as typical, obliging love for a sibling, but then I remember feeling gratitude for all that he did for me. I kind of hero worshipped him. He did so much for me, more than any kid should really be expected to do, but he did so without hesitation, without resentment. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for him."

Pepper smiled at the sentiment and Natasha quietly confessed, "Me too."

It was the most open, personal thing the woman had said all night so both Bella and Pepper did her the favor of merely nodding without shining a spotlight at the uncharacteristically vulnerable moment.

It was close to three in the morning when sleep started to pull Bella's eyes closed even as whatever movie Pepper had popped in still played. She had the vague impression of some action scene playing right before she lost herself into a dream.

It was an odd sensation, being aware that you were dreaming even in the middle of a nightmare.

In her dream, or memory, Edward was leaving her again, his cruel words dropping like a wrecking ball through her self-esteem. The memory veered, though, after he ran off and instead of chasing him, she simply collapsed where she stood. For a dream, she felt oddly tired and listless. While the memory of Edward's words still stung, the usual accompanying despair was absent.

Instead, all Bella felt was acceptance, not of any truth to his words but an acceptance of the fact that they had indeed been slung at her. How pathetic was it that she couldn't even stand up for herself in a dream?

"Pathetic," a cool voice echoed her very own thoughts.

Not even bothering to turn and face whatever being her subconscious had conjured up, Bella simply said, "Aren't I?"

There was a dismissive snort. "Not you, though you are a sorry sight. The boy... he's pathetic."

Tilting her head, Bella looked off into the wooded area Edward had flown towards in his escape. "How so?"

"It's clear he knows what he wants but he's too weak to seize it."

Shaking her head, Bella looked to the leaves crunched beneath her knees. "Seems like he wanted to leave and that's exactly what he did."

"Foolish girl," the voice said unkindly and with a hint of superiority. "It's so obvious that he was lying."

"Lying?" she parroted with a frown.

"Yes," the mystery man bit out. "He left though he wanted to stay. He is weak, unworthy."

Turning her head, Bella saw the shadowed silhouette of a man. He was tall and broad shouldered, but there was a sleek litheness to him as well. She was unable to discern his features, but she did see the dim outline of shoulder length hair.

"I should've known," he muttered when she turned towards him.

"Known what?"

"Nothing," he nearly snarled.

Bella sniffed. "There's no need to get testy. You're the one in my dream, after all. Why couldn't I dream of a nice guy for once?"

"Nice is overrated," he said, and though she was still unable to make out his features, she could hear the smirk backing up his words.

"I disagree," she said. "Nice is rare. Comforting."

"If you believe that then you are just as weak and naive as that fool who just left."

That, she took extreme exception to. "I am _nothing_ like that bastard," she spat. "Whether he wanted to stay or not, he still left. It was his choice to leave me like I was nothing but a toy he'd outgrown; abandoning me to the monsters he brought into my life. He left me. I am forsaken."

"Abandoned," the man murmured softly and Bella felt an odd chill of pleasure at his voice. "Forsaken."

"Yes," Bella admitted in no small amount of shame. "Cast aside in favor of someone else. It sucks."

There was a beat of silence.

"Yes, it does," the man whispered so quietly she could have mistaken him for the leaves rustling in the wind.

There was a safety to be had dreams and Bella felt no qualms in admitting to her dream man, "And he's left me so thoroughly that I can't even find him and make him pay for what he'd done to me. To my family."

"Vengeance," the man said knowingly.

Bella shook her head. "Justice. I only want justice."

"It's all subjective," he said easily and with such a complete lack of concern and morals that Bella couldn't help but turn towards him again, trying to squint through the darkness shrouding his face.

"I don't want him to suffer," she said, though her anger surged in denial. "I only want him to pay for his crimes."

"The two are one in the same."

"To the untrained mind," she allowed.

He snorted again, no small amount of anger and disgust coloring his next words. "What do you know, mortal? You, who collapses at the feet of her tormentor. You are weak. It is no wonder he left."

The words stung like lemon juice in a paper cut. "I'm not weak," she insisted, frustrated with herself as her words wavered. "You are."

Good lord, she was getting into some sort of pissing match with a figment of her imagination.

"And I'll thank you to mind your tone when you talk to me," she smarted, figuring she might as well lay it all out there since she'd likely be waking up soon. "You're the one gate crashing my dreams, least you could do is be polite while you're in my head. Stupid subconscious."

The man inhaled a sharp gasp of fury. "I've killed people for such insolence."

Bella scoffed. "Then you're the weak one. Really? You have to resort to killing someone instead of outwitting them?"

"Foolish chit – if you knew to whom you spoke – "

"But I do know," she cut him off. "You're nothing but some being my mind came up with to teach me some sort of lesson, but truly, I have to wonder if I really hate myself that much if I created someone like you to talk with."

"You better wake up now," the man hissed, "or you may never wake up again."

Bella's eyes flew open, her heart thumping against her chest like a hummingbird's wings.

"You alright?"

She jumped and saw Natasha leaning against the arm of the couch. She'd clearly been up for a while, though Pepper was still curled up in an adjacent love seat, completely crashed.

"Um, yeah," Bella said, one hand going to her hair while the other rubbed at her chest. The slight pain throbbed worse than ever before and Bella fought a wince.

"You know you talk in your sleep," Natasha said. "Anything you want to tell me about?"

Her mind flew over the events of her dream, but Bella shrugged them off as some sort of weird unconscious hallucination brought on by an excessive amount of junk food.

"Not really," Bella shook her head. "It was just a dream. A strange one, yes, but still just a dream."

Natasha maintained her penetrating stare and looked like she was about to say something when a loud scuffling and a low murmuring of voices made their way to them.

"I told you not to..."

"But it was a dare!"

"A double-dog dare!" Bella recognized Clint's amused tone.

"And if someone dared you to jump off a cliff would you do it?"

"Sure, why not. What's life without a little risk?" That was definitely Tony talking.

The men round the corner and Bella's conversation was immediately forgotten at the sight of them. Clint was covered in feathers and what looked like ink (at least she hoped that's what it was). Tony was wearing an evening dress and heels, his face smeared in some god-awful combination of hooker red lipstick and neon blue eyeshadow.

Even Steve, who Bella had only just met but recognized as a bit of a goody-goody, was sporting some lipstick and wearing a skirt over his khakis.

"What in the world happened to you boys?" Natasha barked, admirably holding back laughter.

Bella was not as strong and lost herself completely, giggling and snorting until her sides ached.

"Tony?" Pepper said sleepily, almost sounding like if she was unsure whether or not she was awake. "Is that my dress for the benefit this weekend?"

Tony's eyes widened. "I don't know – is it?"

"Dammit Tony," Pepper glared. "Now what am I going to wear? You're stretching it out with your stupid thighs!"

"Are you calling me fat?" Tony huffed in indignant ire. "Because I'll have you know..."

"No," Pepper cut him off. "You will not turn this around on me. Go change out of that gown at once and for the love of God, all of you shower and try to be normal for at least five minutes please!"

"Normals boring," Tony stated, but hopped to it when Pepper shot him another glare, Clint and Steve following closely behind him.

"Sooo... that just happened," Natasha stated and instantly the trio lost themselves into a fit of laughter.

But not even the laughing ache in her sides diminished the growing ache of the small void in Bella's chest.

* * *

><p>(AN): Just FYI because I'm not sure if it was explanatory or not or how much Avenger terminology y'all know:

Gungnir - the name of Odin's spear

Midgard - Earth

The Other/Master/Titan - Leader the Chitauri creature serves. We never know his name in the movie, but any comic lover knows who he is and I'll be introducing you to him soon :)

Thanks for reading an please review!


	8. Knock, Knock

**(A/N): **Very late, I know... but between comicon (I met Nathan Fillion and Stan Lee!) getting caught up on my other stories, real life, and the mother of all migraines...? Yeah, late happens. Thank you all SO MUCH for your patience. This chapter sets a lot in motion and leads us right up into some real action, so please let me know what you think of it :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Knock, Knock...<strong>

Watching Bella over the next couple weeks was like watching a rose bloom in winter. For Clint, it was one of his greatest past times not only because of his parental sense of pride but because the small hole that had torn into his heart the day he left her slowly healed and filled with late night movies, cheesy jokes and general goofing off. He'd gone through the years thinking of her constantly, mourning the loss of her presence as one grieved a death, but he'd never realized just how much it had affected him until he had her back again.

The circumstances left much to be desired, but even so, they were together and it was like a balm to his aching soul. He'd done so much for his country; surrendered his family, friends, the chance of a normal life... even his morals had been offered up for sacrifice at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s alter for the greater good. There were many things he'd done that would appall the average person on the street – theft, questionable assassinations. Much blood stained his hands. Though he regretted nothing, even he was mildly appalled at some of his actions. But he was able to rationalize their necessity and accept them as his cross to bear so that people like his sister could live in blissful ignorance. Truly, it was an easy thing for him to do when he thought about it that way.

Except, his sister hadn't been as blissfully ignorant like he'd assumed. While he was off kicking ass and taking names, she'd been left to fend on her own when a special kind of demon came to prey on her loving heart.

There were no words to describe the failure he felt at that. His unknowing failure to protect his sister was worse than being unsuccessful on one of his missions and cut deeper than any wound he'd ever received in the line of fire – and he'd his fair share on battle scars. He carried the weight of his defeat close to his heart and swore to himself that he'd never again fail her.

Not that Eyas saw it that way. Clint knew better than to make such a vow to her face. He could hear her now, soft smile not dulling the sharpness of her words as she told him in no uncertain terms that he was crazy for thinking such things. She blamed herself – it was right there for them all to see – and he carried her guilt with his own, as if he too was to be blamed for that. They really were quite the pair.

He watched her now as she sparred with Steve and her proud smile as she tripped him caused Clint's thoughts to fade into the recesses of his mind and find his own smile. He'd let her trip him, of course. Steve was in no way using his full strength and speed, but he still fought with an average grace that Bella was able to hold her own against. There were times she started getting overwhelmed – she was still a novice, after all – but Clint was proud to see her improve each week. Natasha had worked wonders with his sister.

Speaking of, Natasha was currently on the sidelines of their sparring, calling out tips to Bella, pointing out weakness she could exploit as Steve worked at a slightly slower pace that bespoke a teacher's patience.

"She's getting better," a voice said from behind him.

Clint turned slightly and gave a nod to Tony as he walked up. "She is," he agreed, no small amount of pride tainting the word. "She's more confident in her movements, but she's still holding back."

Tony snorted. "Afraid to hurt him, I take it?"

Giving him a wry smile, Clint said, "Bella is certainly motivated when it comes to protecting herself and others, but when it comes to hurting her friends – even if it's for the sake of learning – she'll always hesitate. It's just not in her nature."

"But put a vampire in front of her..." Tony trailed off.

Clint smirked. "And she'd give him hell."

Tony snorted again. "Your sister is a class act, Barton, but methinks she would fair better in a lab or behind a computer... being the one to empower the people out in the field."

Giving him an appraising look from the corner of his eye as he watched Steve land a light hit to Bella's gut, Clint stated, "You really got her figured, haven't you?"

Lifting his obnoxiously red sunglasses up his forehead, Tony gave Clint an uncharacteristically serious look. "People like your sister are a rare breed. To have seen and experienced all that she has and still put others before herself... She's finally found her anger, but it's not for her. It's because those she cares about are being hurt and are being threatened. Selfless to the end, that one," he gave a small nod to her direction and then added more quietly, the observation an ominous confession, "A dangerous trait."

_You're telling me_, Clint thought as he and Tony shared a look of unanimous agreement. They'd have to keep a close eye on her. His sister wasn't stupid by any means, but she did have the not-so-brilliant trait of running off and trying to save the day at her own expense. It was a family trait, Clint recognized, but at least he had the training to back it up and always meant to come back alive from such missions. Bella didn't care much one way or the other so long as in the end those she loved would remain safe.

The tension was broken when Bella managed a decently executed ankle swipe that had Steve falling to the mat.

"Whoop!" Tony called out with a grin. "Kick him while he's down, Hells Bells!"

Bella looked over in their direction and grinned, but Steve used her distraction to trip her down beside him. She grunted as she fell, but Steve caught most of her weight and it was a sound of surprise and not pain.

"Never drop your guard even when you think your opponent's down," Natasha deadpanned. "Incidentally, loud mouth over there is right. You should have used his position to your advantage. Now get up and go again – this time focus on his right hip. That's the side he landed on and, with any other opponent, it would now be a vulnerable spot."

Taking the criticism with a good-natured nod, Bella accepted Steve's hand up and they ran through the cycle again, Bella focusing on getting some decent hits to Steve's right side.

"So what are you doing here, Stark?" Clint asked as Bella's training went back underway.

Tony pouted. "No one comes over to my house to play anymore."

Clint snickered. "You bored, that it?"

Tony shrugged unashamedly. "Hells Bells comes over for tutoring, but I wanted to see how her training's coming along."

Shooting him another appraising look, Clint said, "You care about her," and if it had been about anyone else he would've meant it as a mild insult, but because it was his baby sister, the accusation held a ring of approval.

"Name one person in this godforsaken building that hasn't fallen under her spell," Tony shot back.

Clint had to concede to that. Bella had a way about her. She was so genuine and unassuming that people, sometimes even bad people, were just drawn to her like bees to a rare flower and were driven to befriend her. Even Fury started poking in more often to do status checks on her case and just the other day he caught her and Coulson laughing and joking together as they watched _Serenity_ in one of the break rooms.

"You'll have to be watchful of that," Tony said, a heavy warning behind the low words.

Clint knew just what he meant. As he'd already noticed, people who tended to be more reserved or who kept to themselves more often than not were starting to pop out of nowhere and Bella had a small but warm smile for them all. It was like they couldn't help themselves – even Natasha, one of the most notoriously hard ass agents, had been seen smiling with Bella as they teased each other with the joking air of sisterly affection. It had warmed Clint's heart to see them getting on so well, but in the back of his mind he knew it was strange and out of character for Natasha to be so open with someone she'd essentially just met.

Hell, even Tony who only loved Pepper more than himself had fallen victim to his little sister's sway. Bella had asked him, all timid and innocent like, if he'd be willing to get her caught up in her studies so she could test out of her final year and get her diploma. She hadn't cared one way or another about graduating, but she'd confessed quietly that it would have mattered to her dad and Tony's already softened heart towards her melted like butter on a hot skillet.

The two of them were thick as thieves after that and if Clint was a lesser man he'd have been rather jealous about that. But Bella was just – _so Bella_. She made time for everyone that came calling and at the end of the day, she always went to sit with Clint to shoot the shit. Sometimes they'd just sit in companionable silence and occasionally, Bella would shed silent tears as Clint held her, soothing her sadness away as he reassured both of them that all would be well. He would make it so.

In the far corners of his mind, Clint worried about who Bella would draw to her next. Hanging out with the Iron Man, the Captain and various S.H.I.E.L.D. agents meant that she was going to be exposed to criminals, some truly horrid people. What if one of them took the same shine to her?

"You bet your ass I will be," Clint swore once he realized Tony was waiting for some sort of response.

Tony nodded even as he started clapping annoyingly loud as Bella got another hit in. But Bella always learned from her mistakes and other than a small twitch of her lips, her attention remained on Steve who was already coming back with a kick she just barely dodged.

"So rumor has it that Fury is giving you a super secret mission here soon," Tony said as if commenting on the weather.

Clint shot him a glare and then sighed. "Why am I not even surprised you know that?"

"Because you know I'm not just the prettiest one here but also the smartest."

"And also the most modest," Clint said dryly.

"Modesty is overrated," Tony said. "If you got it, flaunt it."

"That must be your life motto."

Tony shrugged. "It's as good a motto as anything else. Now stop dancing around it – you taking our girl with you or what?"

Clint heaved a sigh. "It sounds like a cake mission. Fury just wants me there for surveillance so the plan is for Eyas to come with – she goes where I go until that fucking vampire is a pile of ashes."

"And her new boyfriend? He tagging along too?" Tony gestured towards Steve.

Rolling his eyes, Clint said, "You caught that too?"

"Please," Tony scoffed. "That boy is as subtle as a 2x4 to the head. He's got himself a little crush."

"Well," Clint smirked. "Bella sure as hell don't know it yet and even if she did... Well, not sure much would ever come of it. Don't think he's her type really."

"Too nice?"

"Old fashioned," Clint said. "Too much like that vampire that messed with her, though the Cap sure as hell ain't that kind of dick. Still, too similar."

"Maybe she needs herself a bad boy – be thankful I'm not single," Tony wiggled his eyebrows with a smarmy grin.

Clint choked. "I think I just threw up a bit."

"Hey now, it could happen. Look at me, what's not to love? In another life, I could've been your brother-in-law."

"To get back to your original question," Clint said in an abrupt change of topic that had Tony snickering. "Steve's gonna go vampire hunting. Haven't seen much of the bitch and we figure it's time to take a more active role in nailing the thunder-cunt down."

"I've had Jarvis scanning public surveillance cameras, no luck yet... Maybe I'll take the old suit out for a spin along with the Captain. Don't want it getting rusty," Tony said nonchalantly while brushing off one of his shoulders.

Clint smothered a grin. "You're just a big 'ole softy, Stark."

Smirking, Tony said, "Well, for a pair of legs like that, can you blame me?"

Clint's fist shot out and caught Tony on the shoulder, the action so quick it was more like a reflex.

Before Tony could retort they heard a loud male exclamation of pain followed by Bella's shout of, "Oh shit!" and then a toppling of bodies smacking onto the floor.

Then there was a truly strange sound – one so rare it had Clint doing a double take even as he and Tony jogged over to them.

"Is Romanoff... giggling?" Tony asked in disbelief.

Over the sound of Natasha's snorting laughter, they could hear Bella apologizing profusely. "Steve, I'm so sorry – I didn't mean to! Are you okay? Do you need some ice? I think there's frozen peas in one of the break rooms... I'm so, so, so sorry."

"What happened?" Clint asked, but as he took in the tableau before him, he realized exactly what had happened and burst into laughter.

"You got him in the nuts, didn't you Eyas?!"

Tony started laughing.

"Guys, please, it's not funny," Bella exclaimed, her cheeks getting red as she started getting even more flustered. "Go get him some ice or something, you idiots!"

"It's okay, I'm fine, Bella," Steve said, his voice tighter than usual.

"Yeah, he's got super balls – they can take it," Tony snarked.

Natasha let out a loud guffaw, opened her mouth to say something, and then started shaking her head as she started giggling and snorting again.

"Steve, I'm really sorry. It was an accident – I'd never hurt you on purpose."

"It was a good reflex though," Natasha pointed out as she finally managed to harness some of her amusement. "If it had been a real fight, it'd have been a perfect move."

"But it wasn't a real fight – it was an accident," Bella shrilled, and Clint could tell she had hit her limit as tears began to gather in her eyes.

"Hey, hey now, Eyas," Clint murmured, all amusement evaporating. "Steve is fine and no one thinks you'd kick him _there_ on purpose. It was just an accident – no use crying over spilt milk."

Bella shoved him away with an angry huff. "I thought you'd be more sympathetic, what with being a man and all, Clinton... and you too Tony. I feel terrible for hurting him like that. I'd never," she trailed off as her breath hitched and her right hand went to her chest in obvious pain.

"She's hyperventilating," Natasha said, no trace of a smile left on her face.

Steve popped up despite his linger discomfort and gripped Bella's arms. "Hey now, sh-h... I'm okay, Bella."

She shook her head, her hand starting to claw at her chest. "It's so cold," she whispered before she turned sheet white and her eyes rolled.

Clint's hands flashed out to catch her and were joined by three other sets.

"What the fuck just happened?" Clint asked no one in particular. Bella had always been a sensitive one, but that was an overreaction even for her. Something wasn't right; the way she'd clawed at her chest...

"Panic attack?" Tony suggested, and it was a strange thing to see him looking so concerned with those god-awful sunglasses on his head.

Natasha looked grim as she said, "No. She's been getting worse."

Clint twitched in anger at the underlaying implication but quickly reigned his shit in knowing it wouldn't help anyone if he let his anger control him. Even if it was now clear they'd been keeping something _very_ important from him.

"Worse?" he asked, his tone clipped and demanding.

Giving him a vaguely apologetic look, Natasha said, "I don't think it's medically serious, but it's strange."

"Strange?" Tony prompted as he pressed his fingers to Bella's wrist to check her blood pressure.

Shaking her head, Natasha said, "Just try to calm down... and listen."

They managed to calm themselves and there was a beat of silence.

"All I hear is my hair turning grey from waiting," Tony quipped.

Natasha hushed him. It looked like Tony was about to say something again and no doubt piss everyone off but he was stopped by Bella's sigh of contentment and her sleepy voice murmuring, "It's you."

The two words had the effect of a sedative. The instant they passed her lips, her body seemed to sigh into itself, relief loosening her every limb as if she'd downed a muscle relaxer. Where her expression had been stiff and pained before, she now had a vague smile that crinkled her eyes.

_She looks happy_, Clint realized, happier than she'd been in months, maybe even years. It was such a small thing, just a playful squint to her eyes, but it saddened Clint to be faced with how despondent his sister had truly been if that small winking sign was enough to drive the message home.

"Cold," Bella murmured, but it didn't sound like a complaint. "You're... so... cold..."

She shivered slightly and Clint subconsciously started rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

"She dreaming of the vampire?" Steve asked.

"No," Natasha said, and there was a definitive ring to the word that left no doubt. "She absolutely hates that dick. I don't know who she's dreaming about, but she's been dreaming of him for a while now, since the first girls' night at least."

"So she's dreaming of some random popsicle stud – who cares? Let's get her to the nurse's office and get her checked over," Tony grumbled.

"Such a mother hen," Natasha teased, but Clint found it difficult to see anything funny about the situation.

"That thing with her chest," he said as they made their way down the hall in one big procession, Bella cradled in his arms. "How long has that been going on?"

Sensing his lingering anger, Natasha said quietly, "That first night with Pepper... I noticed her rubbing her chest a lot, but dismissed it at first as heartburn because of the vodka."

Clint's eyes narrowed on the word _vodka_, torn between an approving brotherly grin and a disappointed fatherly frown. "But?" he prompted, knowing there was more.

"But," she picked up her cue. "She kept doing it long after the vodka was gone. I think it hurts her, but it's not like painful sensation. More of a pressure."

"What makes you say that?" Steve asked.

"Her posture," she said. "Every time she reaches for her chest, she either leans forward as if to ease some sort of tugging, or her shoulders slump, as if held up by some invisible string."

"And you didn't think to tell me any of this, Nat?" Clint hissed.

Natasha gave him a cool look. "I don't think you're in any position to cast stones about keeping secrets, Barton. She's never had a reaction this bad and I wasn't even sure it was anything other than stress at first, so I thought it best to wait and observe before worrying you."

The explanation made good sense and went a long way in soothing him, but Clint still felt the stirrings of helplessness as he looked down at his sister hanging limply in his arms. Why did it feel like there were monsters lurking around every corner waiting to spring up and attack her?

"Lost," Bella sighed into his shoulder. "Alone."

"You're not alone, Eyas. You've got me with you – you'll always have me."

"Find," she said, the word trailing off like an echo through an empty cave. "_Find me_."

Frowning down at her, Clint gave an absent nod to Tony as he opened the door to a small infirmary and proceeded to lie her out on a nearby cot, waving away the medical professional that started to hover.

"Why don't you all head on out," Clint suggested. He felt tired suddenly, wrung out and hung to dry in a locker shower room.

"You'll let us know," Steve trailed off, his hand reaching out towards Bella before falling back to his side.

"Yeah, sure will," he said.

They filed out, Steve followed by Tony who gave Clint a _you'll-be-hearing-from-m__e-soon_ look, and then Natasha who paused at the door.

"She'll be fine, Clint," she assured him. "I'm not sure what exactly is going on, but we've seen some pretty strange stuff lately and your sister... well, she seems to be really good with strange."

Clint nodded with a half-hearted smile, turning back to look at his sister once he heard the soft click of the door closing. His brow furrowed as he studied her, taking in her equally yearning and serene expression.

"Just what have you gotten yourself into now, Eyas," he murmured, placing a hand to her head and smoothing some of her hair away from her face.

"Clint," she breathed and he couldn't stop a small grin from forming as her lips twitched upwards. "Love Clint."

"I love you too, little bird," he whispered, tucking a kiss to her head before settling into his chair to wait for her to wake up.

* * *

><p>"Clint," he heard his name from far away. "Clint!"<p>

He jerked awake, his hand reaching for his weapon before his sleep riddled mind registered he had none on him and was in no danger.

"Easy there, rough rider," Bella smiled brightly, shaking her head at him. "You just fell asleep is all. You got a little drool, just there," she gestured to his lower lip with a teasing grin.

His hand lifted automatically before he realized she was teasing him. Scratching his head, he sifted through his thoughts as he fought for coherency.

"Hey there, you alright? You look kind of out of it," she frowned in concern.

He shook his head as the events from a few hours earlier rose to the forefront. "I should be asking you that, Eyas. Are you alright?"

She tilted her head with a confused smile. "Me? I'm just fine, Clint. Why would you ask?"

"Don't you remember?"

"Remember what?"

Clint's heart thudded against his rib cage like a jackhammer trying to break through concrete. "We were in the gym," he prompted, each word slow and pointed. "You were sparring with Steve."

Bella lifted her hands to cover her face, her cheeks heating fiercely. "And I accidentally kicked him in the balls," she groaned. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Clint said dismissively. "We're all worried about you, Eyas."

"Me?" she sputtered. "Why in the world would you be worried about me? I mean, it's not like my foot took any damage for crying out loud."

"You don't remember," each word fell from his lips like a weighted feather settling to the ground.

"Remember what?" she asked. Nervousness was starting to take her and she started fiddling with the blanket over her legs.

"Eyas," he said softly. "You kind of freaked out on us. You felt real bad about hurting Steve and started having a panic attack or something. You kept grabbing at your chest..." he trailed off as she subconsciously lifted her hand to rub gentle circles over her heart.

"I was cold," she said, but then shook her head. "But that was just a dream. It's just gotta be the stress, Clint. I'm fine," she said with an air of finality.

_Stubborn woman_, he thought with a tinge of fondness even through his irritation. She could be missing both her legs and insist she was right as rain in order not to worry him when in actuality he got even more concerned at her blatant white lies.

But he knew better than to call her out on it. The more he tried to force her to admit to it, the more she insist she was alright as though if she said it enough it would actually be true. Instead, Clint decided to take a different approach.

"I have a new assignment, Eyas," he said. "Whattya say to a little get away from here? Fury is fine if you want to come since it's mainly a surveillance gig and I know you've been geeking out with Tony lately, but Dr. Selvig is a brilliant physicist and can keep it nerdy for you. Wanna go with me?"

He wasn't really asking and she had to have known that. He'd always been protective of her but with the recent events he'd well crossed into overprotectiveness and refused to have her out of his sight. There was a very real fear seeded in his heart that Victoria would come for her the instant he left her side. Irrational and unlikely, he knew, but he wasn't about to take any chances, not when it was his sister's life at stake.

Bella gave him a wry, knowing smile. "Could be fun," she said. "What about the others?"

"Nat's got an assignment in Russia and Tony and Steve, well, they're gonna go vampire hunting."

She gave him a grimace of worry and he responded, "Not to worry, Eyas. They're big boys and can take care of themselves. If they find her, they'll be able to handle it."

Giving a reluctant nod, she asked, "So what are we supposed to be watching over?"

"_I_," he gave her a sharp look. "Am to be watching over a very important device and keep an eye on the people near it."

She cocked her head. "What sort of device?"

"You'll see – we'll leave in a day or two."

Perhaps Natasha was right... maybe it was stress playing with his sister's mind and she didn't want to admit it for fear of stressing him out. Maybe a nice, cushy watchdog job was exactly what they both needed to calm down and get their heads back in the game.

Clint squeezed her hand and grinned.

* * *

><p>Deep in the sliver of space he haunted, Loki curled his fingers around what was once Odin's spear. Power surged through his hand and up his arm. The force of it had him staggering forward as though the improved spear was a divining rod leading him to water.<p>

He brought a hand up to his chest as he felt the familiar and echoing pull there.

_Yes_, he thought, glorying in the magnificence of his new power, knowing that there was none he could hope to be his equal. It was time to active the tesseract – it was time to come calling to the gateway the silly humans foolishly left open, a door cracked open and waiting from him to kick it in.

_Knock, knock_...


	9. Who's There?

**(A/N):** A little late, sorry! I wrote a massive one-shot for Kittyinaz's July writing challenge on her wordpress that took on a life of it's own... but lots of info in this one, so please read and review. Hope you likey!

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><p><strong>Chapter 8: Who's There?<strong>

"Knock, knock," Bella said fairly vibrating in anticipation as she came up behind the haunched form of her brother.

Clint's shoulders rose in an annoyed huff and he remained silent.

Unfazed, Bella's grin widened. "Knock, knock," she insisted in a sing-song voice.

His body weight shifted into a decidedly off-putting pose, turning further away from her as he ignored her still.

But of course, his stubbornness only spurred her own and with the persistent patience only a younger sibling knew when it came to annoying their elder, Bella walked closer to him. Really, he was just making this all the more fun.

Balling up her fist, she rapped on his shoulder with another, "Knock, knock."

Clint jerked and finally looked at her, his annoyance written across his face in his furrowed brows and glaring eyes. "Who's there?" he bit out in the tone of someone who'd asked the question several times before.

Her grin was one of victory as she innocently said, "Doctor."

Rolling his eyes, Clint asked, "Doctor Who?"

He looked at her as she remained silent, her grin wide as she nudged him with her elbow in the classic '_get it?__'_ gesture.

When it clicked, his eyes went rolling again. "Really Eyas?"

She giggled. "You know you love it."

"Don't you have someone else you can go annoy?"

"Awe, and leave you all alone? I'd never, big brother!"

He huffed again, but Bella saw his lips twitching. "And where are you learning these god awful jokes anyway? I don't remember your sense of humor being so cheesy."

As if on cue her phone beeped signaling a text message notification. The phone had been a gift from Tony. It was black and sleek, some high-tech gadget that could probably make her breakfast if she told it to, but all she ever used it for was calling and texting.

It'd been a surprisingly sweet gesture from him on the eve of their departure. They'd gathered for a low-key pizza night at Tony's and towards the end of it, he'd pulled her aside and handed her the phone.

"You know, just in case your brother is busy and you need to order a pizza or something," he'd told her, his stance shifting and awkward at the sentiment behind his action.

A strong impulse rose within her and before she knew it, Bella had thrown her arms around him in a giant hug as she whispered a quiet, "Thank you," in his ear.

Tony had awkwardly pat her back. "Sure, Hells, but you know... I think Pepper's starting to get jealous."

Laughing, she'd pulled away and listened as he'd rambled off all of the tech features. She'd gotten lost pretty quick as he kept on, but a small lump formed in her throat as he showed her how he'd already programmed everyone's number in it.

Not long ago she'd felt completely alone, isolated from the world in a very genuine way as she prepared to go on the run from a homicidal vampire. She'd been expecting Clint to leave her, to rightfully cut all ties with her when he'd learned the truth – a foolish thought she knew even at the time – and had been ready. Ready to face a solitary existence until the day Victoria found her and finished her off. She'd suspected it would be like a favor at that point, especially after losing Clint. It made her feel terrible to think it, but losing him would've been far worse than the loss of Charlie and Renee. Through no fault of their own, they hadn't always filled that parental role with her life. It'd been Clint who remembered to pack her lunch for school; Clint cleaning up her cuts and scrapes as he taught her to ride a bike.

It had always been Clint there for her.

And to her amazement, Clint had rallied around her after her black confession. He'd consistently reassured and comforted her as they both grieved the loss of their parents. It was actually very fitting that he often called her 'little bird' because that was exactly what was – a little bird fallen from her nest, lost, alone and so very scared. Then in his typical patience, Clint had found her, cared for her while setting her broken wing and encouraging her to soar.

She didn't think it was possible to love her brother any more than she already had, but he'd proved her wrong.

Not only that, but with him came a whole slew of people in her corner. Extraordinary people encouraging her, befriending her and making sure she knew she'd never be alone. These people went out of their way to include her, protect her and while she regretted the circumstances that had brought them into her life, she was also so very thankful for each and every one of them.

To her shame, her eyes had welled up as she stared at all of the names for a good few minutes but though Tony had noticed, he tactfully ignored her pathetic display. Instead, he took the phone back from her, swiping a finger across the screen decisively before showing her the app for Angry Birds.

"Pretty fitting, eh chickadee?" he'd teased, successfully bringing back her smile.

Glancing at the screen of the phone now, she smirked at the picture of Iron Man giving her a thumbs up.

She found herself texting the whole lot of her new friends frequently throughout the day. Pepper would always send her a good morning text and Natasha always responded to Bella's short and sweet greetings even though she was away on a mission. Bella'd been worried about texting her in particular, but had wanted her to know that she thought of her. Natasha had been subtly grateful for the messages and Bella knew it was because she didn't have anyone who ever thought about her while she was away, Clint notwithstanding.

Even Steve had managed to figure out how to text her. In between lightly teasing him for always being a victim of auto-correct, Bella had often requested he touch in with her when he could so she'd know he was alright. It made her feel better to hear that he was as well as could be while he continued his search for Victoria.

Hell, even Phil had texted her when a Firefly marathon had been on TV which had prompted a daily exchange of show and movie quotes. He often cited Simon though he was surprisingly versed in Jayne-isms as well.

Clicking on Tony's text, she gave it a quick scan, snorting as she suppressed a laugh.

"Hey Clint," she said through her smothered giggles.

Eyeing her warily, he said, "Yeah?"

Unable to hold her grin back, she said, "Knock, knock."

Other than his long groan, he didn't kick up a fuss this time as he asked, "Who's there?"

"You know."

"You know who?"

Her smile stretched so wide it hurt as she responded, "Yes, but you can call me Lord Voldemort."

"It's Tony, isn't it?" he deadpanned as she lost herself in a giggle fit. "I always knew that man was such a geek, but damn..."

"Oh come on, they're funny!"

"Only you, Eyas," he said with a humoring smile. "Now fly away, little bird – Fury wants me to check something out. Why don't you go bug the good doctor."

Her giggling calming into a gentle smile, Bella said, "Love you, Clint. I'm kind of glad we got away for a bit. I think I needed it."

Any remaining annoyance on his part evaporated as he enveloped her into a tight hug. "Me too, Eyas," he agreed, pressing a kiss to her head before he went over to a thick black rope hanging from one of the metal bars. Shooting her a smug smirk, he grabbed onto it and repelled down from the rafters at an impressive speed.

"Show off," she called down to him, smiling at his shrinking form while carefully leaning over a bar.

The bark of his laugh caressed her ears as he shouted back, "You know you're jealous!"

And she kind of was.

Taking careful steps to the ladder she'd used to climb up to pester her brother, Bella couldn't help but reflect on the truth of her words to Clint. She _was_ happy they'd snuck off for a bit. As much as she adored her new friends, Bella was used to being introverted if not an actual loner. Before Edward had isolated her from the small group of friends she'd made, Bella had enjoyed being a part of a circle of friends. She'd had a handful of them in Phoenix, though no one she was particularly close to.

What it really came down to was that although she enjoyed the company, Bella had grown used to being alone, conditioned to it almost. And time to herself was scarce to find at the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters that had become her new home. Between Natasha's early morning workouts, Tony's random popping up – usually when something important was about to be discussed, just to mess with Fury and Coulson – and Pepper's well meaning, but unrelenting need for coffee dates and shopping... Well, it was like they were all going above and beyond to distract her from something and it was getting kind of annoying.

The wound inflicted from the loss of her parents was still fresh and raw. No matter how well-meaning their attempted to bandage it with distractions was, they were at best a temporary fix.

She didn't even know what they'd do if she told them about the dreams...

It'd been easy to keep a cool head when Clint had told her about her fainting spell after a panic attack, mumbling while unconscious about some truly strange things. It was doubtful that he believed her reassurances as he knew her well enough to spot the bald-faced lie, but she hadn't wanted to make a big deal out of some silly dreams.

Her foot finally hitting the last rung on the ladder, Bella scanned around and once satisfied no one was paying her any mind, she rubbed her chest right above her heart. The sensation had been increasing, not necessarily painful, but there was the feeling of a large weight pressing upon her heart like someone had sat an elephant there for safekeeping. Every so often there'd be a tug at the spot the weight sat on. Before she'd even realize it, her feet would be moving towards the direction of the pull, drawing her unerringly closer and closer to the glowing cube – something she had learned was called a tesseract.

Clint had told her they were experimenting on it to try to harness its power for green energy, but in her quiet moments, Bella frequently found herself staring at the tesseract and in her mind she saw the silhouette of a man on the other side of it. Somehow knew it was the man from her dreams. There was a constant sense of familiarity and a pinch of longing when she caught his shape from the corner of her eye. It was easy to shake off, but he often lingered on the peripherals of her vision. Always in sight; always out of reach.

Thinking of him had her subconsciously rubbing her chest again, far too lost in thought to look around beforehand to avoid any unnecessarily concerning Clint or anyone else he had keeping an eye on her. So strange to yearn for the company of a man she'd only dreamt up – especially as he was unfailingly rude and arrogant. But though her mind failed to give definition to his features, there was no lack of his personality.

Cold was the word that consistently popped up. Cold and wounded. Through their ramblings, it'd been easy for Bella to determine that the cold ice around him was a form of armor fashioned to protect an already hurting heart. Hard to escape that fact when her own heart suffered a similar wound.

Maybe that was why she found herself starting to go to bed sooner and trying to sleep later, always eager for Morpheus's embrace to whisk her away to dreamland where the man waited for her every night, without fail. Through many passionate talks and heated arguments she'd learned that their methods of coping and outlooks on life were vastly different; however, there was something strangely compelling about his company and something to be said for finding a kindred spirit.

Even though she was ninety-nine percent sure she'd made him up.

_No need to worry Clint that my grief has __finally __made me __go insane_, Bella thought. She could keep a lid on her crazy for the time being. Her brother had already done so much for her and the last thing she wanted was to pile it on. She'd just have to deal with it on her own, kind of like when Luke Skywalker went into the cave to face his fears only to find out he was facing himself in _Empire Strikes Back_... She was the one dreaming the dude up, after all. Maybe she was her own worst enemy.

Shelving those metaphysical thoughts for later perusal, Bella headed to where she saw Dr. Erik Selvig working. He was haunched over a nearby desk, his hand scribbling across a pad of paper with such gusto he looked like an orchestra conductor, the imagery tugging her lips upwards in a slight smile.

Dr. Selvig – or Erik as he'd requested she call him – had been another person that had joined her growing group of friends. The man was downright brilliant and his passion of physics and just general understanding of the unknown had been contagious. When Clint had to go make his reports or was too caught up on the surveillance gig, Bella found herself at Erik's side working as a sort of student apprentice.

Science had always been an interesting subject for Bella though not her favorite. She and Tony had spent more time on physics than any of her other school studies. It was the only one they shared a common interest in and the interest had carried over with Erik.

Mostly, Bella was glad she could pitch in and help out. While she understood the necessity of remaining sequestered away for her own safety, it was still nice feeling productive.

"What's the gist, physicist?" she said coming up from behind him.

"Isabella!" he crowed, a beaming smile splitting across his face.

Erik Selvig was a brilliant man. Clint had introduced her to the lead scientist straight off and his vaguely eccentric eagerness had been something Bella had quickly grown fond of, even admired. She'd casually inquired about his current experiment and Clint's fib about 'green energy' was soon unraveled as Bella proved to have an above average grasp in physics.

She'd not held the white-lie against her brother; instead, she'd rolled up her sleeves and offered to do the grunt work for Erik in order to keep herself busy. More often than not, Bella was teasing out long, tedious calculations that were so rote she completed them by muscle memory alone. Still, her assistance freed Erik up to work on the more important issues and Bella was therefore happy to help.

It didn't hurt that she enjoyed the man's company. He was honestly passionate about his work and had so many interesting stories to share. Bella was particularly fond of his stories involving Jane and Darcy, two girls he very obviously held such a paternal pride for. Often, Erik told her of their more recent adventure involving the Norse God Thor – something that Clint confirmed for her later on one evening when she'd inquired about the validity of the story.

Vampires, Iron Men, genetically engineered super soldiers... Gods of mythology were a small leap for her to make and she accepted their existence with the same understated amazement she'd had when learning about Edward's nature. She wondered if she'd ever meet Thor or any of the other Asgardians, Erik said they were called. If she continued to hang around her brother and S.H.I.E.L.D. she imagined it would only be a matter of time.

"It's the most fascinating thing, Isabella. The tesseract started showing minor spikes in her energy core last night, no one in the room, nothing provoking it. I'm talking tenths of a percentage, but the frequency and power is increasing."

Biting her lip, Bella accepted the clipboard he held out, her eyes roaming over the new numbers. "But, this is all without stimulation?" she half-asked. "What's causing the change?"

"I have no idea," Erik beamed with an enthusiastic grin. "She's never misbehaved in all of the months I've spent working on her."

Smiling despite her vague worry, Bella lowered the chart and glanced at the tesseract. As usual, she saw the vague impression of her dream man hovering on the other side of it, but this time he looked different. There was a sharpness to his figure as if someone had fiddled with the camera she looked at him through, trying to bring him into focus. While his features where still undecipherable, his form stood out in sharp relief through the blue hue of the tesseract and the field containing it.

In her shock, Bella instantly took a step to him only for the blue hue to flair around the tesseract in another energy spike.

Erik yanked her back. "That had to have been the strongest yet – someone get me those numbers," he called back to the team of scientists scurrying around behind them.

Bella only half-heard them, her eyes locked on the figure she could clearly see observing the scene they presented, his head cocking to the side. Though they still remained obscured, she imagined his lips curled into a mocking sneer as he observed the tableau, his head tilted back in a combination of arrogance and amusement.

_I've gone crazy_, Bella thought, unable to look away from what she was sure was nothing but a figment of her imagination. _Poor Clint – as if having __a__ danger magnet sister isn't enough, now he's the guy with the sister gone cray-cray, as Tony would __call it_...

But maybe...

Summoning up all of her courage, Bella moved towards the tesseract again.

Another spike in energy occurred.

"Isabella?" Erik asked, his attention drawn back when the cube had sent out its flash of light. He still sounded excited, but a new concern was present at the development.

One more step forwards, not too close, and then another spike.

She watched in morbid fascination as the figure tilted his head to her and as if she could feel the weight of his invisible gaze upon her, the pressure on her chest increased along with a sharp pull forwards, making her fold in half with a sharp gasp. Her feet skid across the floor as an invisible forced yanked her towards the tesseract... to him...

Clint appeared out of nowhere, his arms wrapping around her waist and halting her movement. His arms strained against the force, but he persevered, arms shaking with effort as he held her back and took precious steps backwards.

"It's reacting to her," Erik announced in amazement, joining Clint's efforts in pulling her back. "How in the world - ?"

"Coulson's already arrived and Fury's en route," Clint grunted. "We need to get her out of here and to safety. They've declared an evacuation. Everyone not necessary in trying to regain control of the tesseract is to leave immediately."

Though she couldn't tear her eyes away from the figure, Bella could tell Clint's teeth were gritted with the effort of holding her back.

"It's him," she whispered.

"Eyas?" Clint prompted, managing another shaky step back.

"There's someone there, Clint... I swear, I can see him," she confessed and despite her fear, her arms stretched out in longing askance, the gesture occurring unbeknownst to her.

"Keep her grounded, but she's not to leave," a new voice ordered and though a part of her wanted to turn and greet Agent Coulson, Bella stared riveted to the mystery being.

"But," Clint started.

"So far she's the only thing the tesseract is visibly reacting to. She stays, Barton," the sharp order was softened by an apologetic smile he shot to Bella. "Hello Isabella. Looks like you're aiming to misbehave."

"Yes sir, Captain Tightpants," she half-smiled, gripping Clint's arms as another sharp tug had her gasping. "You know me. I'm always up to no good."

"Hang in there, Bella," Phil said lowly. "We'll get this sorted and we won't let anything happen to you."

Bella smiled at the often stoic but ever sincere man. "I know you won't, Phil. I'll just hang around with Clint while you and the big boys sort this out. No big deal."

He politely ignored the tremor of fear on her last words, giving her another rare smile before leaving to intercept Director Fury and Agent Maria Hill – who Bella had heard of but never met – and brief them on the situation.

"So why don't you tell me about these dreams of yours, Isabella," Clint asked.

His deceptively light tone didn't fool her, especially when paired with her full name. Her brother was pissed at her, but knowing it was largely owing to the current predicament she found herself, Bella took a deep calming breath before answering. "For a while now I've been having dreams about a man," she offered, her voice holding the timidness of a skittish colt.

"How long?" he prompt, his arms flexing when she lurched forward.

"Um," she gasped. "Since our parents..." she trailed off suggestively.

"Hm," he said and again, Bella wasn't fooled by his apparent calm. "Tell us about this man, Isabella."

Swallowing, Bella's eyes nervously flicked to the stoic figure apparently only she could see. His head was cocked and if she didn't know better, she'd guess his gaze to be lingering around Clint's arms around her. "Well," she shook off the idea. "His kind of arrogant and a lot rude, but it's because he's hurting and doesn't want to admit it. Honestly Clint, I doubt he's real. I thought he was just an extension of me, because of everything that's happened recently..."

Another disinterested '_hm_' came from Clint before he said, "Something very real is happening now though, Eyas – and you are at the center of it, so why don't you humor me. Tell me about this man."

Knowing he was right, Bella dutifully recounted as much as she could, her eyes focused on the man from her dreams as she began to wonder, what if he really did exist? What if they'd simply found each other by accident on some metaphysical plane and for whatever reason he was now appearing? Coming to her... coming _for_ her?

Fury stormed in, breaking her thoughts as everyone who remained yielded to his authority. She listened as Erik explained the logistic of what was happening – how the tesseract had 'woken up' and started misbehaving, even more so with Bella's proximity.

Frowning at her, Fury turned to Clint, his eye sweeping over the increasingly firm hold over her. "Agent Barton, report," he barked.

"No one's come and gone; no one's tampered with it at all. If there's any tampering being done, it's not from our end."

"Our end?"

Bella looked away from her mystery man and gave Fury a pointed look. "It's a doorway to the other end of space, right? Doorways work from both sides."

Fury pinned her with a hard stare and a vague part of Bella was rather impressed that his gaze could hold so much weight – what with only having the one eye. "And what is your part in this, Miss Swan? What has drawn you to the tesseract?"

"I wouldn't say I'm drawn at all, sir," she said before confessing lowly, "More that something is drawing me."

"She sees a man on the other side," Clint said. Despite the situation, Bella almost smiled. He sounded like he was tattling on her. "A man she's been dreaming about for weeks now."

"And we're just now learning about this?" Fury asked, heavy censure to the question.

Rolling her eyes, Bella couldn't help but snap, "I wasn't aware I had to report the details of my dreams to S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Fury. I'll get right on that dream journal for you."

Clint snorted a reluctant laugh. "You've been hanging around Stark too much."

Bella gasped again as the sharpest tug yet yanked them both a few feet forward. "Or maybe not enough," she huffed. "I think he'd be useful right about now."

Before he could respond, the tesseract really started humming to life, blue flames flaring out like solar flares before the streams combined. It shot across the room and at the other end a wormhole like portal appeared. The whole thing took seconds, but Bella felt as though minutes had passed as she stared at the portal, stars dotting a background clouded in a nebulous haze that eventually receded into nothing, leaving a lone figure crouching in its wake.

The tugging stopped just as abruptly and she went limp in Clint's hold. Breathless, Bella felt a new sensation dancing across her skin. Not quite electric but more like cold tendrils danced over her as if someone started dragging an ice cube over her bare skin. It was surprisingly pleasant and she found herself relaxing into the feeling, sighing softly in both pleasure and relief.

It only increased as the crouching figure lifted his head, a freezing malicious smile teasing his lips as he took in the room. He faltered slightly when his gaze rested on her and that icy cold sensation increased tenfold. He was across the room, but to Bella it felt as if he was inches away bearing over her, breathing his frosty breath over her heated, flushing skin.

Just as quickly as the shark-like smile faltered, it reappeared, his eyes never leaving her.

Her shiver in response had very little to do with fear.

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><p><strong>(AN)**: Boom baby! Now who's ready for some action, huh? Leave a review and let me know what you thought :)

Side note – I only plan to paraphrase from the movie. Obviously Bella's presence will have the movie plot veering significantly in some ways, not as much in others. We're gonna have one wild ride folks where anything can happen, so hold on tight!

Also, I shamelessly stole "What's the gist, Physicist?" from Big Bang Theory... And Captain Tightpants/aim to misbehave is from Firefly (thought those were obvious but wanted to mention just in case!)


	10. Alight

**(A/N)**: Hope you enjoy... and for those wondering, I only plan paraphrasing lines from the movie, sometimes using direct quotes. I want it to tie in, but still have the creative freedom to work it myself. Happy reading!

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><p><strong>Chapter 9: Alight<strong>

As he had done many nights now, Loki heeded the pull, tumbling into the subconscious of the Midgardian woman.

He found her as he always did, prostate on the forest floor, soul flayed open from the lash the insolent boy had brought down upon her with his words, leaving her broken and bleeding as she stared after him. Weak, he had thought during the first encounter, but he now knew that to be false. No sooner had he taunted her for her lack of strength did she turn, a glare burning with the strength of a thousand fiery suns searing through him. Her gaze flooded him with unprecedented heat, his frozen form minutely thawing and for just an instant, Loki had almost lost himself in her eyes and melted before her.

Not weak, he'd conceded as they exchanged barbed insults, but certainly bound by her morality. She was chained by her convictions and a wicked thought had him mentally rubbing his hands together in mischief – how delicious it would be to shatter those chains and free her of the confines her conscience boxed her within. What an entertaining pet she could make...

As he saw her now, her spine stiffened and he knew she sensed his presence though she did not tear her gaze away from the trees. Far beyond denying their connection, annoying though it may be, Loki confessed to himself a small amazement at the strength of it. The imprint of her followed him into consciousness and he often received flashes throughout the waking day of her and her little compatriots. He was convinced it was the same for her though in her feeble mind he was nothing but a dream.

How surprised she would be when she found out otherwise...

"Why do you stare after him so, a pet yearning for its master?" he taunted, enjoying the way her shoulders shuddered before stiffening again. So stubborn, this woman... such a contradiction of soft steeliness within her.

"I don't yearn for him, but a way to make him answer for his actions... I am no one's _pet_," she spat, at last turning from the trees and fixing him with her burning glare.

A strange fluttering feathered against his chest, but Loki ignored the sensation with a smirk. "Yet here you sit, night after night, kneeling in subjugation... Perhaps he is not the master you are prostrating yourself before," he hinted at their connection while purposefully insinuating her inferiority.

She did not disappoint.

Surging to her feet she marched fearlessly up to him, halting just a scant few inches from their bodies touching. Loki smiled as he quirked his head down at her in mocking humor. Inferior his height may be for the Frost Giants, Loki still stood impressively tall and he enjoyed the way she had to tilt her head back to look up to him.

A single finger rose to his face and while a part of him simmered at her nerve, his amusement at the act proved stronger and a smirk teased his lips upwards.

"I am my own master," she hissed threateningly.

His cold grin widened as he leaned down, the fabric of her mundane clothes brushing against him ever so slightly. "We shall see, little human."

She did not surrender or quail before his own threat; instead, she stood straighter still, the heat of her gaze brushing against his face as she ground out, "Yes, you _will_ see," and her finger made contact with the center of his chest in a sharp jab.

Fire consumed him, a conflicting blaze of hate, desire and fury. Despite all their meetings, this was the first time they'd ever made physical contact and the gesture scorched him, the small point on his chest searing with a heat that spread like a wildfire all the way down to his toes. His soul was alight with her fire.

The woman jerked away, taking two large steps back. He saw her arm lower and the way she flexed the fingers on the offending appendage as it once again rested safely at her side. Without fail, he knew she had been burned too and he glared at her, angered by her daring and his own confusion over the phenomenon.

He knew not why his magic had sealed him to this mortal woman, but Loki resolved to find out the reason and if at all possible, he would sever their connection and be free of her confusing fire once more.

When he woke, her fire lingered at the small point of his chest, her brand upon him, staining and marring his person. Infuriated, his resolution solidified and he went to the Titan in furious determination. She so dared to set him under her siren's call and now he would answer it. He would show her – show all of those Midgardian peasants – who the real master was, no matter if it required his submission to The Other. A small price to pay, his fury swayed him.

That was the day the Fallen Titan known as Thanos placed the scepter into his hand, the violent blue fire of the Mind Stone it secured promising both vengeance and victory. That day, Loki siphoned his magic through the scepter, activated the tesseract and followed the pull to the human woman.

That was the day his reign dawned – irrefutable and indomitable – though he knew a small few would challenge.

As he kneeled a moment, the tesseract a glowing beacon across the room and reminding him of his goal while he caught his breath. Loki looked up, eyes scanning the room until they landed on his siren. He smirked.

_Let them try_.

* * *

><p>For a moment, time was frozen and they were all nothing more than a painting done in pointillism Bella was too close to make out. If she'd been further away maybe she could have deciphered the tableau they made, but from where she stood she could barely make sense of the portrait, too immersed as she was.<p>

Her heart slammed against her rib cage like one of those rubber balls tethered to a paddle being repeatedly smacked. Adrenaline was coursing through her and Bella found herself thankful for Clint's arms still like steel vises around her, supporting her shaky weight even as she could feel his own heart hammering at her back.

Taking a steadying breath, her mind slowly caught up with situation and she took in each individual point in order to decipher the picture...

Her dream man kneeled at the opposite end of the room and the tesseract was silent again, it's blue energy silently humming an innocent tune as though nothing had happened. Erik and his scientists looked a cross between amazed and horrified as the man scanned the room, eyes chilling as he took in each of their forms, lingering ever so slightly on her and Clint's arms around her waist.

His lips quirked up into a sneer and in response, Clint's grip tightened.

The man rose from his kneeling crouch and it was then that Bella noticed the spear in his grip, crowned by a dark blue gem glowing with an inner fire that had her shivering.

"Sir," Colonel Fury called out as the man's fingers tightened around the weapon, his own hand hovering over his sidearm strapped to his thigh. "Please put down the spear."

A mocking breathless laugh sounded. "Oh, I think not..."

When the man turned to her again, she was finally able to take in his features. Chin length black hair and frozen, ice blue eyes... He had an otherworldly beauty not unlike the vampires Bella had known, but where they had the marble hard features of a Greek statue, this man radiated a deadly attractiveness like a black cobra coiled to strike. He was cold, dark beauty that made her feel sinful just from staring at him.

Despite the small quiver of fear he ignited deep in her gut, Bella had to consciously keep herself from moving to him, her weight shifting anxiously from foot to foot. The tug at her chest was calmer than it had ever been yet still insistent, promising relief only when she was at his side. His eyes pierced hers and it felt like he was gazing into her soul, stripping back all the layers of her psyche one by one until she and her making was laid bare before him, naked only to his eye.

The right side of his mouth quirked at her before he released her from her stare, Bella nearly going limp in relief. His eyes traveled down her form and settled again on Clint's arm around her.

"You would do well to release her," he said, an unspoken threat lurking in the subtle command.

Clint's arms tightened and in a smooth protective motion, he pulled her behind him, blocking her from the man's sight. Bella was simultaneously grateful and saddened, wanting to weep for the loss of his gaze.

"Who are you and what do you want with my sister?" Clint asked, his voice unlike anything she had ever heard before. She'd heard her brother angry, protective, threatening and every shade in between, but the raw authority with which he spoke now, threatening swift and sure punishment should he go unanswered, had her gripping his shoulder. Whether to hold him back for his own protection or the man's, she didn't know.

The man's cold voice sounded amused and dripped with condescension. "My name is Loki of _Asgard_," a subtle sneer lingered on 'Asgard' as though it left a bad taste in his mouth. "And I am burdened with glorious purpose."

"Loki," Erik mumbled to himself though it echoed in the solemn room. "Brother of Thor."

Loki spared Erik a brief glance before saying, "I come with glad tidings of a world made free."

He gave them all a chilling smile before turning back to Clint who asked, "Made free of what?"

Bella peeked over her brother's shoulder and saw the man smirk. "Freedom."

_Oh god_, she thought, fear and adrenaline making her thoughts strangely sharp and quick as they circled around her addled mind, each one nipping the heals of another in a never-ending loop. Loki – Norse God of mischief – brother of Thor who Erik delighted in telling her stories about. Loki, a small footnote Erik mentioned in passing mentioning his desire to end his brother and claim their family throne for himself.

Her mind hovered on the last thought and pulled up their many conversations in her dreams, the anger shrouding an emotional wound and the utter lack of concern for who got caught in the crossfire in his mission to rule.

Finally, it seemed her thoughts snapped her into focus, catching up with her body as her fear from learning her dream man was real was at last overruled by the familiar fire he sparked in her.

An indignant fury surged within her breast and Bella stepped decisively out from behind Clint, shrugging him off as he tried to pull her back with a sharply hissed, "_Isabella_."

"And do you presume to rule us, then?" she asked, glaring at him challengingly.

"Isabella," he drew out her name, having just learned it from Clint, his voice sliding over her like a soft caress to the skin. She shivered again. "The siren," another mild sneer as he tilted his head back to look down his nose at her as he claimed, "It is my pleasure and burden to rule over humanity – to be the _master _you all unknowingly crave. This is a kindness."

Any shred of doubt lingering within her evaporated; somehow, someway she'd met this man in her dreams – this arrogant, handsome man who sought to be master of all because he'd been so emotionally crippled by those he had trusted. Betrayed, the word haunted, her heart aching for them both and the similar scars they bore.

_Forsaken_.

This was a man she saw the worst of herself in – what she could have become had she allowed her anger and sorrow to devour her, deluding her into visions of superiority and entitlement.

_This is what revenge looks like_, she thought as she continued to gaze upon him. Desperate, angry... hurting...

But she'd had Clint and her new friends to support her, keep her from succumbing to that darkness that still hovered along the edges – who did Loki have, she wondered. No matter her empathy, however, Bella knew before her was a dangerous being about to lash out with a violence that would shatter the world as they knew it.

"This is foolishness," she countered, conscious of Clint sidling up beside her, a show of protection and support. "And you are insane if you think otherwise, Loki."

His eyes flickered as she spoke his name aloud for the first time before he stiffened and they hardened upon her once more. "Insane, am I?" he hissed, fist flexing around his spear.

"Put down the spear," Fury commanded again, his firearm now withdrawn though pointed at the ground. Bella thought he looked like a coiled spring, ready to pounce into action.

Loki swung his head to Fury, fixing him with a dismissively haughty glance before looking down at the spear in question, tilting his head as if to ask, _What? This spear?_

He smiled again, lifting the spear and jerking his arm, releasing some sort of energy that shattered the computer equipment behind Fury.

There was no hesitation. A reign of gunfire responded and Clint tackled her to the ground, flipping a table over for cover while barking out a harsh – _stay here_ – before he was up with his bow drawn, moving into the fray.

It was impossible to make out what was happening and while the urge to peek over the table was strong, Bella was not near stupid enough to do so. She could hear grunts of people being hit, shouts and yells overlapping and the crashing of equipment followed by what sounded like a light bulb being burnt out only infinitely louder.

Not even a minute went by before the flurry of movement halted, sparks cascading from the busted computers and groans of pain echoing in her ears.

"Clint," she whispered, popping up to her feet, heedless of any remaining danger.

Turning to find him, Bella started when she faced a broad chest. Her eyes flicked up and met Loki's, who stared down at her with his head quirked.

"Now you will see who the master is," he murmured, raising his spear. He hesitated as the point of it hovered above the skin over her heart and Bella felt a vicious tug that nearly had her crashing into him.

Loki stiffened, gritting his teeth as though he had felt the same pull.

Determination burned in his eyes and hardened his features as he resolutely brought the tip to her heart, touching it there with surprising gentleness.

Ice washed through her and she expelled a frosty gasp. Tiny frozen fingertips skimmed over her and as unsettling as the alien caress was, it was strangely soothing. The ice finally centered on her mind and threatened to take over before it abruptly receded and Bella was left gasping and glaring up at Loki, a hand clutched tightly to her chest.

"What the fuck was that?" she gave a breathless grunt.

Loki cocked his head. "Curious," he mumbled, but before he could say anything else, Clint was attacking him from behind and Bella was being pulled to safety, Colonel Fury's grip unyielding as he moved her back from the scuffle.

Bella looked over her shoulder and saw Clint's fist caught in Loki's hand.

"You have heart," he stated. With a vicious glance at her, he smirked again, bringing the spear to her brother's chest.

Clint shuddered, his eyes going startling black before they glazed over, an icy blue veil settling over them. His arm lowered and he holstered his firearm.

Loki grinned.

"Clint," Bella frowned, stepping towards him only to have Fury pull her back again.

As Loki moved around the room, repeating the gesture to several others, Fury slowly brought her to the tesseract and tugged her down to kneel with him as he removed it and placed it into a some sort of briefcase. Once locked, he handed it to her.

"Whatever has happened and whatever will," he told her sternly, voice barely an audible whisper. "Loki must not get the tesseract, no matter what. When you get your chance, you take it and run. Do you understand, Isabella?"

Her eyes filled with tears and flicked to Clint who just stood there zombie-like, watching as Loki touched his spear to several agents and scientists lingering in the room.

Fury tightened his hand around her wrist. "_No matter __what, Isabella_," he repeated fiercely, his one eye boring into her.

Steeling herself, her hand tightened around the handle of the case. "No matter what," she agreed, a tear trailing down her cheek.

They rose to their feet and Fury used his body to shield hers, slowly moving to position her to face the nearest exit.

"Please don't," Loki said without looking at them. "I still need that and I'm not done with her."

Fury turned his head and held up his hands. "This doesn't have to get any messier – we have no quarrel with you or your people."

"An ant has no quarrel with a boot," Loki said.

"Are you planning to step on us?"

Loki grinned. "I have come to rescue you from life's great lie of freedom – once you accept that, in your heart, you will know peace."

He turned and brought his spear to Erik's chest.

"Erik," Bella gasped and Loki turned to her, his cool gaze unreadable.

"You know the truth of my words, Isabella."

"I know you believe the lie you readily speak but only because you've forced yourself to," she countered, glaring at him.

"Sir, Director Fury is stalling," Clint strode up to Loki, breaking their moment. "This place is about to blow and cover us all. He means to bury us alive."

Fury tilted his head and admitted, "Like the Pharaohs of old."

"He's right," Erik confirmed. "That portal is going to reach critical mass in about two minutes and explode."

"Well then," Loki smirked. "Shall we?"

At the prompt, Clint drew his firearm and shot Fury in the chest without even a hint of hesitation. Bella gave a muffled gasp of horror as she watched the man Clint held such respect for fall to the ground.

Before she could react, Clint was in front of her, staring her down with those odd blue, vacant eyes.

"Hawkeye," she whispered. "Please, it's me. It's Eyas."

But the cherished nicknames of their youth held no sway over him as he lifted an arm and backhanded her. Bella collapsed beside Fury with a pain-filled grunt, struggling to keep her grip on the tesseract's case as Clint mercilessly twisted her wrist and tore it free.

He marched away from her fallen form, already forgetting her presence. The gesture brought her mind back to when Edward had left her as nothing more than a shredded butterfly upon the forest floor. Her wings plucked and the flight stolen from her heart.

Tears blinded her as she looked up to the retreating form of her brother – her brother who had always put her before everything and everyone, even himself – now nothing more than a stranger, a blank puppet subject to the whims of a madman.

Her eyes turned to Loki as he walked towards her, sparing her a brief glance as he seemed to almost hesitate as he drew beside her, only to gather himself and smirk – he too walking away.

For some reason his rejection burned almost as bad as Clint's, both of their cut directs making Edward's feel like a small paper cut in comparison. The pain of it welled within her chest and rose to her throat, nearly choking her as she tried to swallow it down and focus.

_F__ocus, Bella... focus_, she told herself as tears rained down her cheeks.

She snapped into motion, crawling to Fury, relief making the lump in her throat slightly more bearable when she saw the bullet proof vest.

He clutched her wrist. "Go," he coughed. "I'll be behind you. Try to alert the others."

The order gave her something to focus on and with a determined nod she left him on the floor as he pulled out his communicator, running out of the room in the path her brother and Loki had taken.

Her heart slammed against her chest and her mind wanted to whirl around the implications of what was happening, what her life had now become, but Bella resolutely forced those cutting thoughts away and focused on trying to find someone to help her stop Loki. Stop Clint.

Focused as she was on turning off her emotions, shoving them down into a mental burlap sack that she drowned with distraction, she nearly ran into a hail of gunfire, barely managing to catch herself around a sharp concrete corner, dropping to the floor next to a female agent.

"Is it Clint?" Bella wheezed, trying to catch her breath.

"Yes," the agent confirmed.

"We have to stop him."

The woman nodded, peered around the corner and went into action. "Let's go," she said, and Bella followed her to the line of jeeps, hopping into the nearest one and taking off after the contingent of cars that held her brother and Loki, as well as the tesseract.

"You are Isabella, yes?" the woman asked, turning the wheel sharply as she floored the gas. "I'm Maria Hill."

Bella gasped as her body slammed into the side of the jeep. "I'd say pleasure to meet you but..."

Agent Hill gritted her teeth, her hands tightening on the steering wheel as the ground began to shake under them. "Understandable," she bit off before tossing Bella a gun. "It's my understanding you've had some training. Shoot at their tires, I've got the rest."

The weight of the gun brought Bella into reality. Natasha had been teaching her hand to hand while Tony had taught her some technical and science quirks relevant to S.H.I.E.L.D. ops or were just generally cool to know. Clint, however, had taken it upon himself to begin weapons training.

She knew the gun was a Beretta 92FS, a standard military firearm that had been surprisingly easy for Bella to get used to. While Clint had tried her on the bow again, it had been quickly clear that time had not improved her skills with it. So it had been a shock to them both when he had started teaching her firearms, handguns in particular, that she had been relatively competent.

But that had been target practice and paper bulls-eyes... to actually put it to use against someone, her brother of all people... It made the gun feel like an anvil in her hand.

Still though, she gritted her teeth. She didn't have it in her to actually aim at any of the people – they were under some sort of mind compulsion, after all – but it was her duty to try and stop them from leaving with the tesseract. Clint would want her to stop him.

Gritting her teeth, Bella took a firm grip, aimed low, and pulled the trigger.

She was conscious of Agent Hill firing too, as well as a voice – Coulson maybe – speaking to them over the radio. They caught up to the car Clint was driving easily, Bella running out of ammo and bracing herself as the jeep lurched, her eyes unerringly catching Loki's who sat in the bed of the jeep in front of them.

"Hold on," Maria shouted as they lurched again, her hands spinning the steering wheel as a car flipped in front of them, forcing them to veer off path. Bella hadn't even been aware of other agents joining the chase.

Somehow they ended up along a side-way, cutting away from the chase, but while that worried Bella, Maria appeared unconcerned. Her hands expertly navigated them down a tunnel and before Bella knew it, they were cutting in front of Clint's car, Maria pulling the parking brake and the car lurching into a one-eighty that had them nose to nose with them.

"Holy shit," Bella screamed as Maria threw them into reverse and they were essentially being pushed back by the car.

Maria started shooting out their windshield and screamed, "Duck!" as Clint returned fire.

She pulled the brake and spun again, ending up alongside them for a second until Clint veered into them, forcing them into the wall. Slowing down just enough to break free, they ended up behind them again, Loki once again catching her eye and smirking.

"Give me another magazine," Bella spat, glaring at Loki and accepting the mag Hill tossed over, reloading her Beretta with a sharp _click_.

But before she could aim and fire, the ground rose beneath them, almost slamming them into the ceiling. Dirt, rock and cement crumbled beneath them until a boulder fell in front of them and they hit it dead on, their movement coming to an abrupt halt.

Clutching the strap of the seat belt cutting into her chest, Bella's head snapped up in time to see another boulder coming loose and about to crush them.

Closing her eyes, she braced herself for impact knowing that they'd be lucky if they survived it. There was a loud crash, but she was confused when several small thunks rained down them like the sound of golf ball sized hail hitting the roof.

Opening her eyes, she realized the boulder had been blasted apart. Frowning, she looked to where Clint was still speeding away, Loki in the bed of the jeep his spear extended out to them. Slowly, his arm lowered and he turned forwards again, him and the jeep fading away into the distance.

He blew up the boulder, she realized. He crashed it to smithereens, breaking it apart into harmless lumps of rocks, saving their lives.

The ever present tug in her chest reappeared and Bella rubbed at it, unclipping her seat belt and leaning forward to brace herself against her knees.

"You okay, kid?" Hill asked.

Bella shut her eyes and shook her head before forcing herself to catch her breath and correct, "Yeah, yeah I'm good. You?"

"I'm good."

Maria's radio flickered to life and Bella half-listened, vaguely relieved when she heard both Fury and Coulson over the line, but her mind was unable to process much beyond that.

"I've got her," she heard Maria saying, though her voice sounded faint like it was coming from the end of a long tunnel. "She's going into shock."

"Keep her with you... back to base... level 7... at war..."

They were all words she knew, but Bella was unable to make sense of any of them, her mind stalling as it circled around the image of her brother hitting her and staring at her with those cold, alien eyes...

As well as the image of Loki's icy gaze searing into her, setting her soul alight.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN)**: Phew! It's done – they've met! I know many of you have been waiting for this big moment, wondering what I'd change and what I'd keep. I hope it lived up to your expectations. Please, please let me know what you thought!

**Terms for this chapter:**

**Thanos** – a titan, the big bad you may recognize from other Marvel movies now. In control of the Chitauri and the one who gave Loki the scepter/spear (which we know is a modified version of Odin's spear).

**Mind Stone/Gem** – one of the gems that fit into the Infinity Gauntlet (more explanation later on that). It is widely believed the stone in Loki's scepter is the mind stone, but while it hasn't been confirmed, I've decided to go with it as – given the nature of its power – it fits rather nicely.

And in case you forgot, **Eyas** is a term for a baby hawk...


	11. A Call to Arms

**(A/N)**: Sorry for the delay... real life and all that jazz. Hope you enjoy the chapter – please do let me know what you thought. I also proudly own all mistakes as I'm too sleepy to edit.

And please visit my wordpress (link on profile) to read the entries on my Halloween one-shot contest. They are appropriately freaky and voting ends 10/31, midnight PST. Check them out and vote today!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: A Call to Arms<strong>

Natasha's head snapped back from another blow. Flexing her hands against the ropes that bound her to the chair, she mentally shook the hit off and turned back to her abuser. She tongued the small cut at the right corner of her mouth and raised a suggestive brow to the man.

"Is that any way to treat a lady?" she asked coolly, enjoying the way the man's jaw clenched at her obvious lack of pain or concern for him.

They were a bunch of amateurs and giving away everything she needed to know, thinking her bound and helpless.

It was a game she'd played often – allowing herself to get caught and interrogated by those she'd been sent to coerce information out of. Lulling her captors into a false sense of security was always easy. So many of them only saw a pretty face and never looked beyond her curls and curves to see the bigger picture and by the time they did see it, it was always too late.

They didn't call her the Black Widow for nothing.

Her head snapped back again as the man – some Russian grunt official who served as muscle for the real man in charge who was standing in the corner, watching them with a sneer – clocked her one again.

"Why do men always go for the face?" she asked herself, more to annoy the man than anything else. She knew ignoring him would get under his skin far deeper than any other retort she could make.

"So this is the famous Black Widow," the man in charge interrupted what would've been another belt to her left cheek. He was heavy set and decorated in the Russian garb of a military General. His accent was thick as he spoke, his tone half derisive and half disappointed. "I confess myself unamused. I thought for sure you'd be a more triumphant prize. Instead, you turn out to be nothing but a pretty face."

Natasha gave him a small smile with a flirtatious tilt of her head. "You really think I'm pretty?" she asked, seemingly unconcerned as the General reached out to a pair of rusty pliers.

"You're information is dated and gives you away," the General announced. "I know who you work for and I want you to give him a message... though, I'm afraid you'll have to write it down."

He snapped the pliers in front of her face suggestively and the grunt muscle laughed, tilting her chair back over the edge of the warehouse balcony they were perched on.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha played the scared victim and was able to get a name of an arms dealer they'd been using. Really, the fools made it all too easy for her and she siphoned the information she needed out of them as easily as she tied a shoe. People were so easy to manipulate when they believed in their own superiority. It also didn't hurt that her reputation was so notorious that men – and a good few women – craved for the bragging rights that would come with bringing her down. They wanted it so badly they blinded themselves to the obvious.

That was often how these things played out. Natasha would ply her victims with weak information designed to show her ineptitude and they'd be reassured of their standing, giving away little nuggets of information like one casually tossing bits of bread to birds in a pond.

The analogy made her think of Clint and by extension, Isabella. Clint was often not far from her thoughts, though she never let on to him about that, but she was still surprised by how much Bella had grown on her. Natasha had no illusions about her own personality. She lied for a living which made it damn near impossible for people to trust her. She was brusque, aloof more often than not, and she had neither the patience nor the inclination to coddle people. To others, she appeared cold, indifferent – a bitch in the truest sense of the word. Not friendly, to say the least, and certainly not trustworthy.

Clint and a handful of other agents were the exceptions to that perception of her, but she'd been almost shocked stupid by how easily Bella had welcomed her into her life, trusted her at her word. A lot of that had to do with her brother's implicit trust in her, Natasha knew, but still. It was surprising that the girl cared so much for her, enough to text her to be careful or that she was thinking of her while she was away on a mission.

No one had ever expressed such honest simple concern for her when she'd leave on task – not even Clint, as they were both jaded and confident in their professions. When they had dangerous missions taking them to separate parts of the world, they often parted ways with a simple nod as if they were passing each other by the office water cooler.

It'd been a strange thing when she'd received Bella's first text, a simple, _Be careful, thinking of you :-)._ A foreign feeling of warmth had spread throughout her and she'd started typing back without even thinking, assuring the girl that she was always careful, adding – much to her horror – a winky face after the text.

They'd exchanged a few texts throughout the day after that and Natasha found it pleasantly nice to have someone so clearly waiting to see her again, someone whom she felt the need to play it safe for in order to come back home to. Clint had always been her port of call, but there was just something about Isabella...

She drew them all to her like moths to the flame, only her flame was a reassuring warmth that washed over them. Instead of drawing them to their doom, she offered a reassuring comfort to bask in.

_A siren_, Tony had jokingly called her, but she'd seen the slight glint in his eye as he studied Bella from afar. Benign as Bella Swan was – a peacekeeper more than a fighter tough she was not afraid to fight if necessary – she still proved formidable in her appeal to those around her. It was like she was unknowingly drawing an army to her but did not seek to command it.

When Fury was around, he often fixed the girl with an appraising gaze. While at one time she would've been in the same bandwagon when faced with Isabella's potential, she now felt a strange surge of protectiveness when she thought about Nick using her for his own gain. Sentiment was a dangerous thing and Natasha knew she'd have to somehow navigate a balance between wanting to protect Bella and enabling the girl to protect herself.

Though she did not regret Isabella's presence in her life, she did not care for the confusing blend of emotions the girl inspired.

Another slap to her face brought her at of her thoughts and Natasha raised a brow at the grunt muscle. "No, please stop – it tickles," she deadpanned.

The scene escalated and right as the General was about to let slip the location where they had several 'off the books' warheads, a phone rang.

_Jesus, how unprofessional_, she sneered at the grunt muscle who brought her chair back to all four legs so he could answer his cell.

She heard him speaking in Russian until he pulled away and looked at the phone as if it had bit him.

"It's – for her," he frowned, the words thick with confusion.

The General snorted and yanked the phone to him. "Now you listen here – "

He cut off as presumably the person on the other line took control of the conversation. The General pulled the phone back with an identical expression of confusion, making him and the grunt muscle look eerily alike for a moment. Tentatively, he moved to her, wedging the phone between her ear and shoulder.

"Yes, what is it?" she snapped, entirely unconcerned with the change of events.

"Natasha," Phil Coulson spoke. Natasha frowned. He sounded more subdued than his usual bland self. "You need to come in."

"What?" she hissed. "You can't pull me out now – I'm in the middle of an interrogation and these morons are giving away everything."

The General pulled an affronted look. "I no give her everything," he mumbled and she pinned him with a dubious '_oh really_' look. He gave it up easier than a hooker working the streets.

"Natasha," Phil said again, and this time, there was something about the way he said her name. It sank into her and an unknown weight settled in her chest; a sensation others would associate with fear.

"It's Agent Barton. He's been compromised."

Like someone had cracked an egg over her head, an acute sense of clarity slipped over her. Pulling all of her emotions into a tiny ball, she stuffed them aside to sort through later and forced logic to prevail.

"Let me put you on hold," she said calmly, nodding to the grunt muscle to take the phone.

The moment the idiot bent down to her, she head butted him, her body working on muscle memory alone to take him down. It was an easy thing to use his momentum against him, cracking the back of her chair in the skirmish and breaking free of her restraints.

The General started reaching for a gun, but Natasha was already working with deadly precision, the words, _It's Agent Barton... he's been compromised_, running in loop in her mind. She broke his wrist and wrapped a chain around his ankle, throwing him over the balcony lift. Let him hang there a while, she thought. Maybe it would teach him how to treat a lady better.

Barely winded, Natasha moved to where the cell had skidded across the floor. Bending down, she picked it and her shoes up.

"What's the plan?" she asked, every part of her being now focusing on her new mission: get Barton back alive and then kick his ass for getting caught in the first place.

"We're calling in the reinforcements," Coulson said and Natasha immediately knew this meant that the Avenger Initiative had been activated. "There's been... a development... which makes this case unusual at best. We're facing a war, Agent Romanoff, one that we're outgunned in."

"How's Isabella?" she asked, knowing that Clint would want her to see to his sister above all else, even finding him.

A heavy sigh answered her, doing nothing to assuage her concern. "Isabella," Coulson began and Natasha was not surprised to hear him say her name with a vague sense of paternal affection. The two of them had grown close. "Isabella blames herself. That development I mentioned; well, she's right in the thick of it. I'm afraid she's in even more danger than she already was."

Natasha gritted her teeth. "What are my orders?"

"I need you to bring the big guy in," Coulson stated. No need to dance around the bush.

Despite the situation, Natasha smirked. "Coulson... you know Stark doesn't trust me. You'd be better off sending Isabella after him."

"Oh no," he said, sounding a bit too chipper given the circumstances. "I've got Stark. You get the _Big Guy_."

Comprehension dawned on her, flashes flickering in her mind of a giant green beast who could throw a temper tantrum the likes of which had never been seen...

"_Bozhe moi_," she muttered, feeling a bit sick even as she steeled herself. The things she did for Clint Barton...

Oh my God, indeed.

* * *

><p>"Sir, Agent Coulson is on the line again."<p>

Tony rolled his eyes as he landed on Stark Tower's platform, his machines rotating and whirling as they pulled off his Iron Man suit.

"I'm actually out, Jarvis," Tony said. "I'm out all week, even."

That should solve that, he decided, hitting a button to block the Agent's persistent calls from further interrupting his evening. He had plans, important plans, to celebrate his new green energy achievement...

Plans that revolved around the lovely Pepper Potts – maybe a bear-skinned rug in front of a cozy fire, champagne...

Speaking of Pepper, she met him at the glass doors as he made his way in, handing him said glass of champagne.

"You really are quite amazing, you know that?" she complimented.

"Oh no, please go on," he teased, his lips twitching as she rolled her eyes up at him.

"Seriously, Tony," she began, but he cut her off with a playful groan, saying, "Ugh. My two least favorite words."

He mock pouted as she pinched his side, forcing down a chuckle as she fixed him with her patented '_I mean it now_' glare.

"We ought to do some press. This is big, Tony. Really quite the accomplishment."

Feeling a tad sentimental, he said, "I couldn't have done it without you."

She snorted, lifting a dubious brow. "I doubt that."

"Come on now, Pepper," he said, setting down his glass and looping his arms around her waist. "Give yourself some kudos – this is your baby, after all. You deserve... twelve percent of the credit."

As he knew she would, she reeled back and gave him another glare. "Twelve percent? Twelve percent of my baby?" she deadpanned.

Suppressing a smirk, he backpedaled, "An argument could be made for fifteen. I'm open to negotiation, Pep. Think of it as a starting offer."

Before she could reply, Jarvis interrupted, "Sir, I'm afraid our phone lines are being scrambled and Agent Coulson is overriding your call block..."

"Mr. Stark," Coulson's voice sounded.

Picking up his cell, Tony held it in front of him and said, "You have reached the life sized decoy of Tony Stark... Please leave a message ofter the beep," he coughed, then drew out, "_Beeeeep_."

Then he hung up again.

"Jarvis, shut down the phone lines. Miss Potts and I were having a moment."

"I was having twelve percent of a moment," she muttered with a smirk of her own.

Tony grinned. No one could keep up with him like Pepper Potts.

Placing his arms back around her, he playfully tugged on a strand of her hair before pushing it back behind her ear. Leaning down, he whispered seductively, his lips grazing her earlobe, "Now don't be so glum, grumpy bear. Disappointment doesn't suit you. I'm sure I can find away to put the pep back in your step."

Pepper grinned, turning her head to his and planting a sweet kiss to his cheek. "Shouldn't that be my line?" Her arms came up around his neck as she nestled closer to him.

Deciding the time for games was over, Tony gave her a sound kiss, loving the way she melted against him and returned his kiss with equal fervor. Tony found the taste of Pepper sweet, rich and almost sinful, like a marshmallow melting in a cup of hot chocolate. He loved hot chocolate – especially with marshmallows.

"Sir, our security protocols are being overridden," Jarvis killed the mood.

The announcement was followed by the _ding_ of the elevator landing on their floor and the smooth _swoosh_ of the doors opening.

Coulson stepped out, looking even more somber than usual and carrying a thick manilla folder.

"Forgive the intrusion, but I must insist on a moment of your time," he said mildly, welcoming himself into the room.

"Security breach!" Tony called out. Looking around the room, he said, "Anyone?"

"Phil!" Pepper smiled warmly, ignoring him with both grace and amusement. "You're always welcome – how can we help?"

"Um, his first name is Agent," Tony remarked.

Coulson ignored him as well. "I'm afraid this is not a social call, Miss Potts. There's been an incident and Colonel Fury is enacting an initiative, one that requires Mr. Stark's immediate attention."

"The Avengers Initiative?" she asked, and then Tony smothered a laugh as she quickly pulled an '_oh shit_' face. "...Of which I know nothing about," she hedged.

"I thought I wasn't invited to play? Not cool enough to sit at the popular table," Tony asked, raising a pointed brow. "Too narcissistic, egotistical – doesn't play well with others," he quoted from his own file at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters.

"Oddly enough, all of that I did know," Pepper said, reaching for her glass of champagne and taking a fortifying sip.

Tony balked slightly as Coulson held out the file to him. "I actually don't like being handed things..."

"Well, that's no problem, because I love being handed things. So here, you take this," she shoved her glass to Tony, not giving him a chance to refuse it. "And I'll take this," she accepted the file from Coulson, then promptly snatched her glass back from Tony's hold, replacing it with the file. "And there we are."

"But we were having a moment," Tony pouted, half-heartedly flipping through the file without looking at the pages. "I don't wanna play with the other kids, Pepper – they keep picking on me."

Pepper opened her mouth for what Tony was sure would've been a quip to slap him back in line, but before she could voice it, Coulson managed to reel him in with one statement.

"Isabella is involved and she's in a considerable amount of danger."

Tony froze, the file turning to lead in his hands.

Stamping down a confusing blend of emotions, Tony was oddly grateful when Pepper placed a steadying hand on his forearm. "Hells Bells?" he asked, all playfulness evaporated.

Phil's lips pressed together. "Yes. There's been a development with those dreams of hers. Her brother has been compromised and we have reason to believe that the man responsible means Isabella harm."

Without a word, Tony turned from them and walked to his desk, tossing the file aside on his way.

"Tony?" Pepper asked, her tone achingly cautious and concerned.

Tony shook his head, letting her know he was thinking and in no state to talk. Hitting several buttons and keying in a few high level passwords, Tony hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s main computer system. His eyes roved over the titles on several top secret files until finding what he need. With a casual flick of his hands, the file Coulson had given him opened up onto his holographic computer screen; only this time, it was unabridged and contained everything about the situation in its entirety.

There were pictures and several videos, many of other Avenger candidates. He recognized Dr. Bruce Banner in both his Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde personas. Steve Rogers was depicted on ice and then thawed out. Several field agents were mentioned... and then there was a picture and a short video of some Fabio looking dude wearing a red cape.

Finally, his eyes snagged onto the familiar visage of Isabella Swan. The photo was recent and he could tell she was unaware of it being taken. Barton was across from her and he must've said something funny because Bella was laughing. He could tell it was genuine too, because when she was just humoring someone with a smile, she never showed her teeth and her eyes held a tightness to them even if they remained kind. Polite to a fault, that kid.

He remembered when he met the girl. At first, he'd made a casual acquaintance with her on paper. Having set up Jarvis to continuously scan reports at S.H.I.E.L.D., flagging for his name, he'd read her case when he'd been mentioned in passing as a possible consult to her little vampire problem. There'd been a picture of her there, too, much different from the one he found himself staring at.

His first glance of her had been what'd had him crashing Fury's little pow-wow. His attention to detail went beyond her waif-like appearance, the insecure hunched set to her shoulders. While many people often claimed eyes to be the window of the soul – and indeed, her eyes had held a telling grief that had called to him – Tony had actually been riveted to her hands.

They'd been clasped in front of her, gripping her opposite forearms just beneath the elbow, in a gesture meant to instill self-comfort and strength in the face of tragedy. Her fingers were white-knuckled in her hold, though her hands seemed to cradle rather than strangle. A hug, Tony had thought. She'd been hugging herself and damned if that hadn't tugged at his black 'ole heart and make it skip a pitter-patter for her.

So curiosity piqued, he went to meet the girl and found something he never thought to look for – a kindred spirit, someone worth fighting for.

She'd been timid as a mouse, though amused by his usual antics. There'd been a telling blush when he kissed her knuckles but instead of commenting on it, for once he politely ignored the signs of a girly crush and carried on with his shenanigans. She'd won him over despite her shyness, though.

Isabella had quickly proven to be one of the rare souls who looked deeper at a person, ignoring outside influences while treating them like actual humans no matter what the world proclaimed to know otherwise. She'd clearly known of him, but never presumed to actually know him. She listened and heard what he was saying even when he wasn't speaking.

_Siren_, he thought as he stared at her picture. The fact that she was entirely unaware made her song all the more potent. She drew people into her light, maybe to their doom, and they all flocked willingly.

Just as he was about to do.

His eyes flicked away from her picture and focused on a blue, glowing cube. Tesseract, the file said. There was something to be had there, he suspected.

"I'm sorry, Pepper, but I'm going to have to cut our date short," he finally stated, his eyes not leaving the file in front of him.

He sensed her sidling up alongside him. "You're going to help her, right? Keep her safe?"

His eyes flicked down to her and he smiled for an instant. Even Pepper was not unaffected after spending some time with Bella. While not an overly sentimental person, Pepper's dormant maternal instincts had awoken when it came to Hells Bells and he knew that just as he'd been texting and exchanging cheesy jokes with the girl, Pepper had also been calling once a day to touch base and see how she was holding on.

"Of course I am, Pep," he said, a decidedly lack of joking to the words. "She'll learn the hard way that even though her brother is indisposed, she's not alone."

Pepper smiled and rewarded him with a kiss. "I'm going to take the jet back to L.A. to prep for that meeting on Monday. You have a lot of homework."

"I hate homework," he grumbled, even as he started to get to work on sorting the massive amount of information in front of him.

"Of course you do," she said brightly, turning away and addressing Phil, "Any chance you're headed by LaGuardia?"

"Sure, I can drop you," he said. And they made idle chit-chat with each other until the elevator _dinged_ again and Tony was folded into silence.

His mind was working a mile a minute, compiling lists and prioritizing data. A thought struck him and he pulled out his cell phone, opening the on-going conversation he had with Bella.

His thumbs poised over the keyboard, he hesitated for only a moment before he typed out, '_Turn that frown upside down... Uncle Tony's on the case._'

Hitting send, he nodded decisively and went back to work.

Not ten minutes later, his phone vibrated with the tolling of bells from ACDC, his notification for when Bella texted him.

Feeling mildly nervous, he yanked the phone out and opened her message.

'_Thank you. Always and for everything_.'

Simple and to the point. Classic Hells Bells, though he could detect the melancholy in her sentiment. Putting the phone away, he told Dummy to start a fresh pot of coffee. He was gonna hit the books harder than Mike Tyson hit Holyfield... He'd take a bite outta S.H.I.E.L.D. too if they thought to use his Hells Bells for some ulterior motive.

He didn't care to see her name amongst the list of potential Avengers and doubted her brother wouldn't be too keen on it too once he found out. Since Barton was currently indisposed, well, Tony figured it fell to him to keep an eye on their Siren.

* * *

><p>Loki gritted his teeth as he concentrated, projecting his mind through the vast emptiness of space until a mental likeness of himself appeared before the Creature.<p>

Even as he listened to vague threats, his mind remained preoccupied with the vision of his Siren collapsed on the floor, brown eyes wide with tears and holding a vague hint of accusation as she looked up at him.

As though summoned by the memory, her likeness appeared behind the creature, the same thinly veiled accusation ablaze in her gaze, searing him across the chest. He did not give way to the flinch that her eyes provoked, but he met her stare with a cool aloofness he was angered took much effort to perfect.

"You will not fail him," the Chitauri creature hissed, moving to turn behind him and face where Loki stared.

A strange sense of fear gripped him, unknowing if the creature would see her as he did. Before he realized what he was doing, he was spouting off some nonsense, inciting the Creature's wrath but effectively keeping it from being able to see his Siren.

"You think you know pain," the Creature wheezed. "By the time He is done with you, you will long for something so sweet." His hand palmed the side of Loki's head and even as a fire erupted in his mind at the touch, his eyes held Isabella's... a small part of him deeming the pain worth it least the Creature happen upon her existence.

Loki felt the echo of pain from the Creature's touch as he snapped back into in his body, the astral-projection broken.

His Siren was also gone and Loki gritted his teeth together sharply, conflicted and angry for being so.

"You there," he called out, gesturing to the one known as Clint Barton.

"Yes sir," Clint said, falling obediently in line before Loki.

Smirking, Loki said, "I want you to tell me about your sister."

Clint's blue-tinted eyes cleared for a moment, before clouding again with the power of Loki's scepter. "What do you want to know?" he asked, the brief moment of clarity swallowed by the haze of Loki's mind control.

_What, indeed,_ Loki wondered, studying the man before him. There was great affection between the two siblings, Loki knew, not only from his late night visits to Isabella's dreams, but also from the fierce way the young man had fought to defend her. Even now, he was fighting, constantly trying to pull free of the mind spell, though he lacked the fortitude that came so naturally to his sister.

He found the man's attempts both admirable and amusing.

"Everything," he finally decided. "Tell me everything about her."

Then he settled in as the man began to talk, spilling his sister's secrets like water out of a watering can. Loki eagerly drank every last drop.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN)**: Obviously, a lot of set up in this chapter... Wheels are in motion and some big things about to happen. Next chapter... anyone wanna meet my friend Bruce? :)

Some dialogue was pulled from the Avenger movie (I'm sure it's fairly obvious where at) but for the most part it's paraphrasing while adding my own spin to it. Still, it's there and obviously I don't own it :)

Let me know what you thought!


	12. Suit Up

**(A/N): **Hope you all enjoy the chapter :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11: Suit Up<strong>

Bruce swiped his glasses off his face, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe them clean again. He didn't know what had possessed him to allow Agent Romanoff to convince him in helping them... It certainly wasn't her good looks or the dozens of agents that had surrounded them in that shack in India.

Part of him smirked cynically at the thought of those puny agents trying to coerce him, a line from one of his favorite movies popping into his head... "_You're gonna need a bigger boat_."

A bigger boat, indeed, he thought mirthlessly, perching his glasses back on his nose as he curiously eavesdropped on the trio nestled up by the cockpit.

"You're sure she's alright?" Steve Rogers asked. Bruce was certain he'd posed the question at least five times previously.

Bruce rather liked the Captain, he'd decided upon meeting him. Seemed a straight-up guy even if a bit naive. While at one time in his life, he'd rather resented him – the experimentations on the Captain being a large inspiration for his own work in gamma radiation and partly responsible for the creation of the Other Guy – it ultimately wasn't in Bruce to blame others for his own plights.

Didn't hurt that Rogers seemed concerned but not judgmental about Bruce's unique condition. It was rather refreshing not to be look at like a freak.

"She's doing as well as can be expected, considering," Phil Coulson answered. "I suspect she'll be better with you guys back at base, then even more so when Tony makes his appearance. She seems to still be feeling the effects of the pull, but she's ignoring her own pain and focusing on her training. There's never a time she's out of that gym."

Phil Coulson was a bit of enigma. The man looked like he should be sitting behind a desk at a bank, but there was a strange air of competency around him. It'd be easy to underestimate him, Bruce decided. He didn't know yet what to make of the man, but he certainly wouldn't write him off.

"That could be for the best. She's already handling it better than she's handled past hardships. At least she's focus – driven," Agent Romanoff said.

Bruce was unimpressed with the agent known as Black Widow. He didn't doubt her deadly skills and held a healthy respect for her abilities, but he didn't care for being lied to no matter the reason for it. She was – first and foremost – a spy. Lies were all she knew and he'd keep that in mind when dealing with her.

"She's not a soldier," Steve scoffed.

"Not yet," Natasha agreed. "But she will be. She _wants_ to be."

"It shouldn't be necessary," Steve began, only for Natasha to cut him off.

"You're right, it shouldn't. But that's the way it is. Isabella's going to be in the thick of things no matter what now – do you want her to be incapable of defending herself?"

"Of course not," he scoffed.

"Then stop think with your heart, Captain," Natasha lifted a pointed brow at him. "And start thinking with your head. Start thinking like the soldier you were trained to be. Isabella is our greatest asset in this battle."

"Colonel Fury has been briefing her on some of the particulars of the situation," Coulson said, breaking the tension between the two. "She's willing."

Steve snorted, but let the matter drop, each of them falling into silence as they neared the base.

Curiosity piqued, Bruce couldn't help but to wonder about this Isabella character and her relationship with the three individuals, each one impressive in their own right. Seemed to him that a lot of this drama centered around her and to be honest, Bruce wasn't looking forward to meeting her. Last thing his life needed was more drama.

Which was why given what he'd just overheard, he was surprised to disembark the jet and step out onto the military ship only to find the girl in question waiting for them; even more surprised when the group started moving to her and she jogged straight over to Romanoff, throwing her arms around her in a brief, but meaningful hug.

Romanoff looked a bit stunned herself at the show of affection, something that Bruce actually related to. Her arms closed around the girl in a jerky but sincere hug, her eyes closing as she accepted the embrace and whispered, sounding more open than Bruce had heard, "It'll be alright, Bella. We'll get him back."

The girl's shoulders shuddered and Bruce heard her give a wet sniff, but when she pulled back, he was mildly surprised by the strength he saw radiating from her gaze. "I know," she said, making the words sound like a vow.

Steve cleared his throat, catching the girl's attention. Isabella's – Bella as she appeared to prefer – smile was small but warm as she wrapped the Captain in another hug. Bruce watched as he inhaled slightly and relaxed into her. He suspected there was more than friendship on the Captain's mind, though Bella appeared oblivious.

"Thanks for coming, Steve. I mean, I know it's a matter of national security or whatever, but still... It really means a lot to me."

"Sure thing, Bella," the Captain smiled as she pulled back. To Bruce, there was something a bit wistful there, but surprisingly lacking in bitterness.

"No luck with Victoria then?" Bella asked, almost in passing.

Steve shrugged. "Had her boxed in for a bit in northern Canada, but I think you were right about her gift... She's more slippery than an eel."

She snorted. "And just as nasty too. Thanks though. Seems like she's such a minor thing now, but your help trying to catch her means a lot to me."

Steve grinned at her and nodded.

Most surprising of the greetings was when Bella then turned to Agent Coulson and said, "Hey there, Captain Tightpants. Thanks for rallying the troops," before wrapping him into a hug as well.

Coulson grinned and it was the most expressive Bruce had ever seen the man. "Well, you know what to do when someone ever tries to kill you..."

Bella's small laugh was muffled into his suit jacket. "You try and kill 'em right back."

Bruce shook his head, knowing he was a bit out of his depth. When the movement caught the girl's attention and she turned to him, he froze, feeling like he'd just been tossed center stage and he'd forgotten all of his lines.

"You must be Dr. Banner," Bella said, walking up to him with a small sad smile that was no less sincere than the ones she'd given the others. "I'm Bella Swan. I can't thank you enough for coming."

She held out her hand to him.

Bruce stared at it for a moment as if it was a coiled snake ready to strike. He wondered how much she knew about him... if she'd be so eager to shake his hand if she knew about the Other Guy. Shaking it off, Bruce jolted forward and accepted her hand. Her hand was soft and small in his own, but she had a firm grip that bespoke of strength.

Despite his earlier thoughts, Bruce became even more intrigued by Bella Swan.

"Wasn't given much a choice," he muttered dryly looking to Agent Romanoff, but he shot her a quick, awkward smile and continued, "But when the fate of the world is at stake..."

She snorted, releasing his hand, bringing her own up to her chest where she started rubbing it. "Screw the world. I just want my brother back."

Bruce caught the concerned glances exchanged behind her, their eyes fixing on the hand still rubbing at her chest.

All his earlier misgivings were swept aside with her statement. While it was obvious she wouldn't really forsake the world in favor of her brother, nothing about her seemed the type, Bruce rather admired the sentiment. Envied it, even. Being lightly briefed on the jet, everything had been military and tactical with occasional moments of intensity on Romanoff's part whenever Clint Barton was mentioned. First and foremost, however, they were soldiers preparing for battle.

Before him now was not a soldier. There was steel and fire within her that could easily be forged into a soldier, but above all else, Bella Swan was just a sister desperate for her brother back.

An intriguing wave of empathy washed over him as he stared at the girl. Feeling his eyes, she looked to him and smiled once more. However sad and pathetic the expression was, Bruce still felt the warmth behind it settle over him. He was basking in her friendly acceptance and refreshingly straightforward desire to just save her brother, all else on the back-burner to be dealt with later.

Without knowing it, he smiled back.

"I will do what I can to help find your brother, Miss Swan," he said softly, a curious blend of emotions stirring in his gut.

When she smiled again, it was like a sucker punch to the stomach.

_Dear God, who is this girl,_ he couldn't help but to wonder, frowning as he followed behind the group as the ship prepared to go airborne – which was a joke in and of itself, he decided humorlessly.

"We're still looking into it," Natasha said as she fell into step beside him.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he asked, "Come again?"

"Isabella," she stated. "You were wondering what it was about her that made you forget all your misgivings, right?"

Bruce frowned, looking away from Natasha and stared at Bella's back as she made half-hearted conversation with Steve. Anyone could tell the girl was exhausted, stretched thin like a threadbare blanket.

"Is there something more in play there?" he asked, not entirely discounting the idea. How quick she'd swayed him to her side despite all of his previous plans for avoiding her...

"We're not sure. Maybe it's just her – her personality and honest openness. They're traits people like us seldom see so they would have stronger appeal."

"But?" he prompted, sensing the word hovering on the tip of her tongue.

"But it wouldn't be surprising – recent circumstances considering – if there was something more to it. As I said, we're looking into all possibilities."

Snorting, Bruce frowned again and shot the agent with a quiet glare. "So she's just some lab rat to be dissected, then," he hissed, his disgust at the notion evident.

Natasha stopped walking, grabbing his arm as the group continued on without them. "No," she said in firm fierceness. "She's not that – not to any of us. Isabella is many things, but she's _ours_. Our friend, our sister – our family. We're trying to learn more in order to help. Being ignorant would only hurt her."

Damned if the infamous Black Widow didn't have a heart, Bruce thought, blinking at Natasha as though seeing her for the first time. He'd overheard that she had some sort of relationship with Barton along with a fondness for his sister, but what he'd just seen went deeper than fondness. Deeper than obligation.

_She love__s__ that girl_, he realized. Whether the agent knew it or not, Natasha Romanoff loved Bella Swan with the ferocity of a lioness protecting her cub.

Against all odds, his opinion of the agent went up and he started to see a deeper layer to her. First impressions always lingered, though; he thought wryly of the woman cornering him in his little corner of India and trying to coerce him with guilt and white lies. The woman was still beside him, but he had to admit – however grudgingly – to respecting this new facet of her.

Scrambling for something to say to cut the lingering tension, Bruce was saved by Natasha dropping his arm and saying, "Let's catch up to the others."

She turned sharply without waiting for him and Bruce stood frozen for a moment before snapping back to it and jogging to catch up.

What followed was a slightly more thorough briefing of the situation. A hostile force by the name Loki was in possession of the tesseract – a potential weapon capable of wiping out the human race. Not only that, but this myth come to life also had some sort of spear that could put anyone under his thrall.

Anyone but Bella, apparently, Bruce noted as he watched the girl in question. He wasn't the only one to focus on her when learning that tidbit along with her draw to the God of Mischief. Ignoring their eyes though, she attempted nonchalance as she passively scrolled through files on a nearby screen, her back to them all.

The others went back to exchanging information and while Bruce kept an ear on them, his attention remained riveted to the strange, mysterious girl. On the surface she wasn't much to look at, but he knew better than to judge a book by its cover. There was real warmth to her, a sincerity he'd rarely seen in people. Especially people associating with him while knowing about the Other Guy; it became clear she knew when he saw a brief report on him pop up on her screen and she casually flicked the page away, completely unconcerned with the small video of the Other Guy roaring in her face.

_She knew and she still shook my hand_... he pondered in a daze. Not only that, but she never flinched, never gave any indiction of fear.

Remarkable, he shook his head as the meeting was dismissed. Isabella was out the door quickly. Trying to avoid a concerned talk with Steve and Natasha, he suspected as the two of them had the looks of one about to give a lecture.

Bruce was shown to a lab far better than he'd ever worked in, especially lately. Oddly, he found himself missing the dangers of war torn countries. There he could make a difference, small though it may be, while flying under the radar. With the glass walls in this new lab, he rather felt like a creature on display at a zoo on display for others's amusement. It let him know that no matter what they said, they were keeping him under observation.

A soft knock broke his thoughts and he hesitantly called out for the person to enter.

Isabella walked in, not meeting his gaze at first as she closed the door behind her, leaning against it.

"Um, Bella? Are you alright?" Bruce asked, concerned as she seemed to be a bit breathless and there was a certain sallow tint to her complexion.

"I'm sorry to intrude, I know you're very busy," she said, her voice soft and timid even as she gave him an awkward smile.

Setting down the tablet he'd been using to start the algorithms to trace the gamma radiation from the tesseract, Bruce found himself smiling back at her. "It's alright. The calculations wouldn't take very long once done and then the computer will do most of the work after that."

She nodded absently and finally moved away from the door.

"Still, I'm sorry to bug you. Sorry you got dragged into this whole mess."

Bruce frowned as he watched her walk over to a screen. She typed in some equations and Bruce found himself slightly impressed at her knowledge. It was like advanced arithmetic for someone like him, but to others, her work was more advanced than calculus on any given day.

"That's not really your fault," he said quietly, staring at her as she worked. Stalling as she was, Bruce couldn't help but to feel a trickle of concern dance down his spine.

"It is," she whispered. It was so faint he almost missed it. "Most of it is my fault."

Bruce went to her. He didn't know her well enough to know how to comfort her. He didn't think she'd appreciate hollow words of sympathy, so all he did was ask, "Why do you say that?" as he started working alongside her.

She was quiet a moment as they worked together until she started, "Loki-" she stopped. Her hand left the screen and rubbed her chest, her eyes squinting in pain. She cleared her throat and started again, "Loki has been visiting me in my dreams for weeks. I could've have said something – warned people. There was no stopping him from coming, I know that, but maybe we would have been better prepared..."

"There's no real way to know that. You shouldn't think in hypotheticals, Bella."

She smirked and gave him a mildly cheeky look, "I thought you were a scientist? Even you know that just because they call is a theory doesn't mean it's not true."

A laughing huff escaped him, sounding almost like a rusty sigh. It'd been a while since he'd laughed. "Clever girl, aren't you? But still, it's not right – or healthy – for you to think that way."

She shrugged. "Maybe you're right, but there's one thing I do know... Loki wouldn't have taken Clint if it hadn't been for me."

At a loss, Bruce was smart enough to realize there was a large possibility of that being true so he said nothing.

"He's punishing me," she whispered, one hand rubbing her chest as the other went back to her calculations. "He took Clint to punish me."

Sighing, Bruce removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, a migraine swelling. This was the last thing he'd expected when he'd agreed to this whole shindig. He hadn't much choice, to be truthful, but even so his strategy had been to get in, get out. No ties, no complications.

He hadn't seen Bella coming, not at all. She was a variable thrown into the equation he'd had no way of anticipating. A complication – but one he found himself welcoming.

"Those we care about are always at risk. Some more than others," was all he said.

Another moment of silence.

"Dr. Banner?" she asked, a small catch in the middle of his name.

"Yes?"

"You're a doctor, right? I mean, like not just a scientist, but medically speaking as well?"

Frowning, he shot her a concerned look. "I've had training, yes. Why? Is there something wrong?"

Her eyes welled up, but to her credit, none of her tears fell. Still, Bruce was like a stereotypical man completely thrown off by a crying woman and his mind was horrified at the threat of her tears.

"I..." she cut off. Taking a deep, calming breath, she continued, "I was going to wait for Tony, but he said he was going to wrap something up for me before coming. I wanted to wait for him, but I can't. Please, Dr. Banner, I could use your help."

The past two days ran through his head and all seemed to narrow and focus on this one moment. All the reasons spewed to sway them to their cause – danger to everyone, so many lives to be saved, end of the world, yadda yadda yadda – all of them disipated and Bruce was left with the sinking feeling that this was the _real_ reason he was here. Obligation to their country aside, he suspected she was the reason they were all there for.

Unsettled as he was, Bruce found himself saying, "Of course I'll help you, Bella. Of course."

Her shoulders sagged and Bruce recognized her exhale at his words as one of relief. She'd been holding her breath waiting to hear what he'd have to say.

Shooting a look to the glass walls and confirming that no one was watching – at least overtly – Bella looked to Bruce, her smile one of relief and gratefulness. "Thank you."

And while it sounded like a small weight had been lifted from her shoulders, Bruce felt it settle in his chest as he stared at her. He didn't think it would ever leave and he doubted things would ever be the same.

That _he_ would ever be the same.

* * *

><p>Bella's relief at Bruce's acceptance damn near had her fainting. That, or it could have been the fact that she could barely stomach food and it was a hardship to force herself to eat something as bland as saltines and soup lately.<p>

The past couple days had been a blur of training, meetings and waiting. Lots of waiting that damn near had her crawling up the walls or collapsing to her knees in sobs. Such a futile thing.

But her stubbornness prevailed and she gave in to neither inclination, simply distracting herself with the gym and working herself so hard that she could fall into a deep sleep too exhausted for dreams.

It only worked half of the time.

The other half, Bella found herself heeding the unspoken call and following the tug on her chest, tumbling into a dream she now knew was real. They never spoke, though Bella was well aware he knew she was there. The few times she unconsciously followed the pull it seemed to catch him in the midst of meetings and the likes.

The last time had been the most unsettling. Finding herself on some sort of asteroid – Sanctuary, she thought she'd heard Loki refer to it in passing, though how it got that name she could hardly figure. It was the oddest thing to realize she somehow astral-projected into space...

She'd watched him as a strange, ugly creature berated him like a schoolboy. Their eyes had caught briefly, but then he'd scurried to distract the creature from turning her way. Would he have seen her? What would he have done if he had?

Why had Loki protected her?

Protecting himself, more like, she'd decided.

Shaking it off, she turned her attention back to Bruce Banner who stood patiently waiting for her to speak. She liked the good doctor, she'd decided almost immediately. He seemed... quiet. Shy. A lot like herself, really.

But there was a hardness to him – an edge she imagined he'd picked up while running for his life.

Truthfully, she was rather intrigued by his ability to 'hulk' out, she believed someone had called it. She had a lot of sympathy for him as it seemed to be something he used to push people away. There'd been no mistaking the leery looks he'd been giving her like he was waiting for her to freak out at him or get scared and run off.

She'd seen worse, she decided upon watching the few videos of the Hulk that S.H.I.E.L.D. had acquired. Her mind flashed to James... to him torturing her for the fun of it, turning it into a game. Then Victoria still out there hunting her.

Charlie's body flashed in her mind before she shook it off.

Yes, she'd seen much, much worse.

"I don't want the others to know," she finally spoke. "I mean, I'm sure they suspect – damn near impossible keeping things hidden from spies – but with everything else going on... I just don't want to concern them. Not about this."

Bruce's eyes softened. "I can relate. Go ahead, tell me what's wrong."

She could tell he was still leery – of her, S.H.I.E.L.D., and the whole shebang – but that he still appeared willing to help her? Well, he spoke a lot about the man's character that he'd help some pip-squeak girl when no one had gone out of their way to help him out.

Turning her back to the glass walls, she motioned Bruce over to her. She unbuttoned the first three buttons on her top, smiling shyly as Bruce's cheeks tinted in a faint blush. To his credit, he said nothing.

"It's easier to show you," she said by way of explanation.

Pulling back her shirt some, she exposed her chest above her heart, making sure all her important bits were covered, she turned her head as she showed him, unwilling to see his reaction. Though she could still hear it.

He sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth, the air whizzing like a sympathetic hiss. "Bella," he said lowly, concern dripping from his tone.

Despite her resolve, the tears welled up again. "I'm sure they told you," she said, voice thick with the tears she fought to keep back. "Told you how I appear to be tethered to him... Told you how he tried to use his spear on me to no effect. But I still feel it – feel him – inside me. Now that he's here, but there's distance between us, the tugging has gotten worse. I'm afraid my heart is going to be torn out of my chest."

Which was no exaggeration. When he'd first arrived, the tugging had eased, but she'd quickly learned that was due to his proximity. Now that they were no longer in the same room, same building – hell, same country, even – the pain had returned with a new urgency.

A warm touch to her skin had her flinching before she relaxed, realizing it was Bruce trying to see clearly what she was asking his help with. She didn't need to look down to know what he was staring to intently at. Her skin was puckered over her heart as if some invisible hook was buried there and yanking at her. Her veins had turned ice blue, lingering bits of Loki's spell? She didn't know for sure, but her skin was like ice there.

Instead of being unpleasant, she found it comforting. It was about the only thing that eased the pain of the constant tug.

"The others don't know?" he clarified, pulling her shirt closed for her.

"They know about the pull," she said. "Fury wants to use me as a Loki compass but with the distance between us being so far there's no way of discerning where the pull is directing me to. It just hurts – all the time. There's no relief, not even in sleep. And the blue tint? It's spreading. It started as a small point over my heart, then it bled out."

"I'll have to run some tests," he murmured. Bella was mildly touched at the note of concern behind the statement. Bruce Banner was a remarkable man to have suffered all that he had and still be willing to help others.

"I know. Tony will help you once he's here, once I tell him, but I couldn't wait any longer. Not even a day. It hurts so bad."

Bruce squeezed her shoulder. "I'll do what I can, Bella. I promise you."

"Thank you," she sniffed, feeling rather pathetic and low.

She missed Clint – God, how she missed her brother. How she wished he'd swoop in with, "I've got you, little bird. It's okay, Eyas – Hawkeye has you."

Shaking it off, Bella snap to the door as it slid open.

Natasha gave her a penetrating look that softened some when she noticed her tears. "Come to the deck – there's been a sighting."

Gathering her wits about her and holding them in a stranglehold, Bella nodded, shot Bruce another grateful look who assured her he'd get right to work, and then followed Natasha up to the deck. Loki's face floated on the computer screens before her and Bella swallowed around the lump in her throat. He was dressed casually in a suit, a deep green she was relatively ashamed to admit she thought suited him well.

He was strolling through what looked like an art show in Stuttgart, Germany, smirking casually as he passed unsuspecting folks by.

"It's like he wants to be seen," Steve commented.

Bella moved to the screen for a better look. "He does. Loki always wants to be seen."

"What's the call, Colonel?" Phil asked, giving Bella a concerned look to which she just shook her head.

"I think it's time for the Captain to suit up," Fury said after a moment.

Before he could add anything else, Bella announced, "I'm going too."

_If only to stop this pain in my chest... in my heart_, she thought. Both physically and emotionally. She needed to go – needed to follow the pull and had to find her brother.

Several people started talking over each other, some in favor of her going, most opposed.

"Please," she broke though the cacophony of voices. "Be reasonable," she urged them all. "If Loki is there, Clint is with him. We need to save Clint – we have to save my brother."

"Isabella, there is more at stake here," Fury began.

"Screw that," she bit off, glaring at him. "I know there's more going on here, but that doesn't mean we abandon Clint. If you do not let me go, I will find a way to go on my own."

Another moment of silence.

"She could be useful," Natasha stated. She was speaking calmly and Bella appreciated someone being the voice of reason.

"Useful? She'll be in even more danger – no offense, Bella, but you haven't had the proper training. At least not enough," Steve interjected.

"I don't need training to cause a distraction," she countered. "Let me go in first. You guys can do your thing and try to find my brother while I distracted Loki. I can do this. I know I can."

"What if he kills you?" Steve asked, looking concerned and horrified at the idea.

"He won't," she said simply.

"And how do you know that, Miss Swan," Colonel Fury asked appraisingly, not necessarily doubting, but curious as to her reasoning.

"Because if he'd wanted me dead, he would've done it a long time ago."

"This plan has merit," Natasha said.

Again, a long pause in which Fury weighed the pros and cons. "Alright. She goes in first, armed and prepared, but you only have fifteen minutes. After that, regardless if your brother is found or not, the Captain is coming in.

Steeling herself, Bella gave a firm nod. "Understood."

"Then suit up, Isabella, you have a long night ahead of you," Colonel Fury ordered.

Taking a deep breath, she gave another parting nod to him, then to Phil who smiled vaguely at her while murmuring, "Stay shiny, Isabella," before turning and following Natasha out.

There was no way of knowing how the night would end for her, but at least she get a reprieve from the ceaseless tug at her chest, even if only for fifteen minutes.

_Looks like it's time for my fifteen minutes of fame_...

It was sink or swim time; she just hoped that the spotlight suited her.

* * *

><p>I really hope you all enjoyed Bruce's POV... he ended up talking to me longer than anticipated, but it was fun writing as him. I may do it again, but no promises.<p>

Please let me know what you thought :)

* * *

><p><strong>Glossary:<strong>

Sanctuary - the name of Thanos's lair. It's not mentioned in the Avengers movie, but it is in Guardians of the Galaxy.


	13. Eye of the Storm

**Chapter 12: Eye of the Storm**

Bella tugged at the collar of her suit. It was similar to what she'd seen Natasha wear a time or two; a form fitting blend of a breathable leather that afforded ease of movement and a small amount of protection against tearing should she encounter a knife or two. While she could see the practicality of the bodysuit, she wasn't quite used to her every curve being on display and continued to shift awkwardly in her seat on the jet as they neared their destination.

"It's not that much more revealing than the yoga pants and tank-top you wear in the gym," Natasha had told her as she helped her suit up. "It covers more skin even."

Bella had nodded in grudging agreement. "Still feels like I'm on display."

"That's because you are," Natasha said, helping Bella attach the two thigh holsters for her guns. "I know you've been practicing with Clint," she said, politely ignoring Bella's flinch at the name. "But I know you haven't forgotten what I told you. In battle, you have to use every asset you have if you want to win."

She'd tapped her on the ass as she said the word _asset_ suggestively.

Despite herself, Bella had rolled her eyes with a self-deprecating snicker. "It's not that much of an asset."

"Hm-m," Natasha hummed. "I think you'd be surprised," she said before abruptly changing the topic. "Tony sent this over a little while ago for your vampire problem."

She held out what looked like a handgun on steroids. "He said to make sure you double tap," Natasha smirked, raising her brow.

Bella snorted and took the proffered gun and held it aloft gingerly, testing the weight. It was surprisingly light and well balanced. In their talks, she'd mentioned to Tony in passing about being half-way decent with a handgun which had sparked a discussion on how to take incendiary ammunition and beef it up to take on a Cold One.

"I suspect it's their venom that makes them flammable," he'd hypothesized with her over the phone. "So we gotta crack the shell before lighting 'em up. There's armor piercing incendiary ammunition but that wouldn't be enough. It's a place to start though." He cut off abruptly and said, "Hey, all this talk about setting things on fire makes me feel like having a barbecue. Let's have a cook out when you get back. Steaks, ribs and potato salad – the American way. No Captains allowed though."

An image had filled her head and she couldn't help but to snicker at their hodge-podge group flipping burgers and talking sports – Tony manning the girl while wearing one of those cheesy _Kiss the Chef_ aprons. He'd probably expect the men to pucker up too.

"Whatever you say, Tony," she'd giggled, shaking the picture away though she secretly hoped it came to fruition. After securing a promise from her to go laser shooting and showcase her 'mad skills' they'd ended the conversation but not before Tony shared another one of his cheesy knock-knock jokes for her to bug Clint with. She also promised to sneak a pic of her brother's annoyed face to text him later...

Sitting in the jet and trying not to freak out as they made to land, Bella made a mental note to send the pic to him after they were done there. She'd never had a chance to before Loki's appearance and making plans for post-mission helped bolster her confidence and settle her nerves. When she made it out, not if...

"Alright," Natasha's collected voice over the headset broke her thoughts as the jet touched down on the rooftop of a nearby building. "While our stealth capabilities for landing would be sufficient for the average mission, we're not going to chance it here. You'll need to book it, Bella. Two miles north once you exit the building."

"Fifteen minutes, Bella," Steve reminded her. "I'll cover the perimeter on foot, Natasha will take to the air. If Clint is here, we'll try to find him while you distract Loki, but after your fifteen minutes are up – I'm coming in."

Bella swallowed, her heart thumping faster and louder than even an eighties punk garage band could play. "Fifteen minutes from when I find him," she had the presence of mind to clarify. Eying Steve who frowned at her catch, she figured she was right to assume he'd have started timing her the second she disembarked.

While she'd made sure to keep up her exercises, she wasn't sure she could cover two miles in under fifteen and still have time to find Loki. Watching Steve's jaw clench, she bet he'd been banking on that.

She shot him a small, sly smile and his lips twitched upwards grudgingly. "From when you find him," he agreed, still not looking too happy about it.

Her smile widened into something more soft than playful. Steve had a lot of heart, she knew and he was kind of a big softy. In between teaching him how to text on his new cell phone so they could keep in touch when she left with Clint, he'd told her of his old life, both pre and post experiment. She knew him to have a staggering amount of courage and a solid moral compass, therefore she was not surprised in the least that he was so concerned about her going in on her own. It wasn't a commentary on her, but more that he was appalled the idea of anyone (other than him, likely) placing themselves in the middle of a dangerous situation with little to no training.

But in this instance, she was the only one who would do and deep down, Steve knew that too.

"Use your earpiece. Keep in constant contact, Bella," Natasha cut in. "We'll be able to hear everything and if you need backup early, say the word."

"Shouldn't we have like, I dunno, some sort of code word?" she joked, though she was curious.

Natasha snorted. "You mean a safe word?" she drew out suggestively.

Blushing, Bella's cheeks ached with trying not to smile. "'Tasha!"

Natasha rose one of her sleek brows at the nickname, to which Bella just shrugged. Giving her a small, but infinitely encouraging smile, Natasha just said, "No need to over think it, Bella. Just say 'help' and we'll be there faster than you can blink."

Taking a deep breath, Bella undid her safety harness and moved to the door. "I don't doubt it," she said over her shoulder, her shaky hands taking inventory of her gear one last time.

"You can do this," Natasha soothed. "Pay attention and don't let your guard down. While I agree with you that Loki doesn't mean you permanent harm, we still don't know his true intentions. When you talk with him, less is more. Half-answers and vague sentences... He strikes me as a talker so pay attention to keywords. Trust your instincts."

"Right," Bella chirped. "You mean my instincts that had me running with vampires?"

"You're not the same kid anymore, Isabella," Natasha chided, her tone nonsense and firm. "You're not a kid at all, in fact. Keep your thoughts in the present, not the past."

Accepting the rebuke, Bella took another deep breath and nodded.

Fingers clenched into fists at her side, knuckles shining white with her determination, she said, "I won't let you guys down," and then hopped out of the jet, jogging to the emergency access door to exit the roof.

"I know you won't," Natasha's voice came in with shocking clearness in her ear. Despite knowing she'd be in constant contact with them with that ear piece, Bella still did a double-take.

"Holy frick!" she gasped, almost missing a step as she kept up a brisk jog down the stairs. "That sounded like you were right behind me!"

Natasha sniffed and Bella swore she could hear her smile.

They maintained radio silence, though she made a mental note when Steve made his jump out of the jet a little closer to the museum.

Once she made it street level, Bella barely paused to catch her breath before turning north and breaking away into a steady run. The physical activity was a pleasant distraction to what she was running to face and the slow burn of the chill night air filling her lungs kept her in sharp focus.

_Find Loki... Stall him... Give them time to find Clint... Loki... Stall... Clint... Loki... Clint... Loki... Loki... Loki..._

Her breathing increased with every step, her mantra running on loop until it was only Loki's name cluttering her head; his face etched onto the back of her eyelids.

As her feet thudded, though, a scene popped into her head, giving her a brief reprieve...

She and Clint huddled next to Charlie on his threadbare couch watching the old sci-fi movie _Logan's Run_. It'd been a favorite of Charlie's, though she and Clint loved pulling a Mystery Science Theater act and made fun of it the whole time. Years later when she'd moved back in with Charlie and Clint had been dead to those who didn't know better, she'd caught Charlie one night in his recliner. He'd a six pack of beer already broken in and _Logan's Run_ was playing lowly on the TV.

The low hum of the movie only slightly muffled his dry, quiet sobs as he mourned for Clint.

"Dad," she'd whispered, unable to resist reaching out to him in such a raw, honest moment. She and Clint took after him... On the surface, they were always calm and collected, but they ran deeper than any river. There was no doubting that Charlie loved his children; that he loved Clint and felt the weight of his absence like an anvil to the chest.

He'd try to cover himself with dry coughs. "Bells," he said, shaking his head. "Don't mind your old man – you go on up to bed."

But she couldn't leave him. It was true that she and Clint had fostered a strong bond which allowed her to get caught up in secrets she kept for her brother; it'd been easy to forget there were others who loved him too. That she wasn't the only one who missed him but she certainly was the only one left with any hope.

Decided, she'd gone over to Charlie who wouldn't meet her eyes. Kneeling down, she sat at the foot of his recliner and leaned sideways into his legs, her head resting against his knee in a show of silent support. The Swans weren't talkers. They preferred to let their actions speak for them and she wanted her dad to know he wasn't alone.

A heavy hand came down to her shoulder and squeezed a silent thank you. From that night on, he and Bella made it a point to watch the movie together about once a week. They never spoke during it, not like she and Clint had whenever they'd watched the movie together with him, but the silence and memories were like a band-aid over the raw wound left by Clint's absence. It didn't heal it, nothing would, but it helped some.

Shaking off the memory and focusing on her current mission, Bella picked up her pace, the dim lights of the museum serving as a beacon of light representing her finish line.

A stitch started aching in her neck and Bella consciously remembered to keep her arms loose as she moved them. While the ache in her neck eased, it was the pain centered on her chest she was really focused on. With every passing step, a stone was lifted from her heart and the tugging eased. If there'd been any doubt about Loki being present, that would've erased it.

So close, she thought as the constant tug to her chest eased to a dull, numbing ache. It suddenly occurred to her that if their pull was mutual as she suspected, then Loki was well aware she was nearby and drawing closer. There'd be no element of surprise.

"He'll know we're here," she breathed into her mic. She didn't want to worry them about her chest pains, but she knew better than to withhold vital information during a mission. "The ache in my chest is easing the closer I get. He'd feel it too."

A beat of silence before Natasha acknowledged, "Noted. Hang in there, Bella. You're making good time."

Bella huffed. True, she was making decent time but she had no doubt Natasha would've been there and back again had she been on the ground.

A sledgehammer slammed into her and Bella gasped in pain as she was caught, repelled backwards into an alley and pinned to a wall.

"Bella?" Natasha asked sharply, hearing the girl groan in pain.

Blinking her watery eyes, Bella gasped heaping breaths as she fought past her pain and confusion to focus.

She looked up and the color drained from her face.

"Laurent," she gasped hoarsely.

Not a sledgehammer then, she noted.

"Shit," Natasha muttered, recognizing the name. "Steve?" she prompted sharply.

"On it," he answered, breathless as he took off running to try and find her.

"Little Isabella," Laurent said in that vaguely French accent of his. He leaned forward and took an unashamed inhale of her scent. "Just as delicious as I remember."

He said it like a compliment. Bella shuddered.

"What are you doing here?" she stalled for time, easing her hand down inconspicuously to her thigh where Tony's gun was strapped.

"I'm afraid to be the bearer of bad news, young one. There's a price on your head – many will come to collect. It is my good fortune to have found you first."

"A price? Like a hit?" she said, her shock pushing her fear to the back-burner.

Laurent nodded. "Victoria was never one to let go of a grudge, you see. She has gone to the Volturi who have declared you must either die or be brought before them along with the Cullens for trial. I'm afraid you won't enjoy the latter. It is a kindness that I am willing to kill you now – quickly, too, as I suspect she has followed me here."

His hand formed a claw that he drew back, preparing to swipe a fatal blow. Her fingers closed around the gun and she withdrew it sharply, pressing the barrel under Laurent's chin.

He grinned. "You know that won't do you any good, little Isabella," he murmured, entirely amused.

That's what she'd been banking on. Vampires as old as Laurent would hardly feel threatened by human weapons. They'd grown complacent in their immortality. "How did you find me?" she decided to ignore him and get to the heart of an important matter. She had to find out how he'd find her as there was no conceivable way for him to have known she'd be in Germany, of all the places in the world.

They had to know what they were now working against.

Laurent cocked his head at her and decided to humor her. "There is a tracker amongst the guard ranks. He owed me a favor and was able to lead me here with a few strands of your hair... I made sure to retrieve some after I watched Victoria play with your father."

Red swept through her vision and without a second thought, she pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession.

Two loud pops had her ears ringing, but as she saw the tell-tale sparks of Tony's version of incendiary ammunition igniting through the new hole in Laurent's chin, Bella maintained enough presence of mind to kick him away from her. Dark satisfaction filled her as she watch the fire catch, using Laurent's venom as fuel and catching him on fire faster than lighter fluid.

Steve appeared at the end of the alley, halting in shock at the sight before him.

"That was for my father, asshole. Hope you burn in hell," she muttered, ignoring Laurent's quickly fading screams as he dissolved into nothing more than purple smoke and ashes.

"I was not expecting that," Steve muttered, looking at her with something close to awe.

"Nor was I," she admitted passed gritted teeth.

Natasha's cool voice said, "I was. I knew you could do it, kid."

"There may be more – he said he thought Victoria followed him," Bella stated, a warm glow filling her at Natasha's praise.

There was a moment's pause before the Captain took charge. "Natasha, keep to the air but follow a shorter flight radius. If Loki knows we're here anyway, there's no point in hiding and we need a closer set of eyes to look out for vampires. If what this guy said is true, doesn't matter where we go, they'll have a way to find you Bella. I'll be on the hunt for the tracker he mentioned. Odds are likely he's still nearby and if we can take him out, we'll have a better chance containing this new development."

"But Clint," Bella interjected.

"Would want us to keep you safe, above all else," he cut her off sharply. "We'll still look for him while you distract Loki, but the new plan is to take out the tracker and Victoria if she followed. We can't afford any loose ends, Isabella. If there's some sort of vampire hit on you, we can't leave them a means to find you. Simple as that."

"This is kind of what they mean by that FUBAR saying, right?" she sighed, rubbing her forehead after holstering her gun. As much as she wanted to find Clint above everything, this tracker and Victoria posed a real threat that they really couldn't afford to let linger. With the revelation that she was a wanted woman in the vampire world, they had to strike hard and fast if they wanted to get a leg up.

She had a feeling S.H.I.E.L.D. would be making that trip to Volterra now after all...

"Things don't always go according to plan when on a mission," Steve smiled softly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We have to adapt to situations while still trying to achieve our objective. This is the best plan we've got."

"Seems like I screw everything up lately," she muttered.

His hand tightened on her shoulder. "Head up, soldier," he chided. "You're not the only one with a past capable of complicating things. You think you're ready for field missions? Then prove it."

Steeling herself, she gave a cheeky, "Yes sir."

Steve snorted. "Be careful, Bella," he said sincerely.

"I will, Steve – you be careful too."

He smiled, turning to exit the alley. Coming to the main street, he stopped as though struck by a sudden idea and looked back to her. "And Swan," he said, catching her eye. "That was some nice shooting."

She grinned. "Thanks."

"Alright you two – time to get back in the game," Natasha interjected. "Our time is even more valuable now since we have more to accomplish."

With that, they took off again, the Captain splitting off at the next light as Bella honed in once again on the museum.

Shouts and panicked screams split the night, people running in the opposite direction and Bella knew exactly what was causing them to run.

"I said KNEEL!" Loki's voice split the night, the fervor of screams muting to a distant hum.

Bella stopped running. Her hand rubbed at her chest as she tried to weave discreetly between the nervous people fleeing the god she had come for.

Only, there were several of him. Loki after Loki – eight, that she could see – blocking the people from their escape.

The copies were uncanny, but Bella knew where the real Loki stood without even looking. The tug in her chest – in her heart, if she was honest – pulled her to the Loki at the base of the museum steps. For days she'd suffered the sharp, persistent pull but now it softened into a caress, like the gentle touch of a lover tilting her chin to look up at him...

Her eyes opened. Ice blue eyes met brown and clashed, neither willing to look away.

"The siren," he said in a whispering scoff.

Bella cocked her head. Siren. It wasn't the first time he'd called her that and she wasn't entirely sure what he meant, though she doubted it was complimentary.

Slow, measured thuds of his footsteps echoed in the pavilion. Bystanders shuddered away from him as he passed and she saw an older woman whose face was tired and weathered cross her self in his wake, her lips moving in silent prayer.

"Loki," Bella greeted. "Fancy seeing you here."

One half of his mouth lifted in a smirk. "Took you longer to arrive than I expected," he said, stopping maybe about six feet away from her. The air between them hummed with tension.

Well, that settled that then. The connection between them was definitely both ways. She hadn't doubted it, but something about the verbal confirmation soothed her. In a way, it was a relief not to be the only one tethered.

"Why are you here?" she asked, point blank.

"I thought we'd been over that. I've come to free humanity," he said.

"By enslaving us?" she asked incredulously.

"By giving you direction – uniting you under one cause, one ruler," he insisted. "It is the unspoken truth of humanity that you crave subjugation."* He paused, moving away from her as he circled some of the kneeling citizens. "The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power. For identity. You were made to be ruled."*

Coming to a stop behind a huddled old couple, Loki paused in his soliloquy and cut his eyes to Bella. "In the end, you will always kneel."*

"No," Bella muttered, spine stiffening before she said louder, stronger, "No. Not today, not ever. And certainly not to you – the wannabe king."

His fingers tightened around his scepter.

"Look at you," she hissed, sensing a weakness. It was her turn to move now, idly circling him like a lioness closing in on her prey.

All the days and the weeks of pain since Charlie's death along with Renee and Phil... To losing Clint just as she got him back... The memories blended together as she looked at Loki who stood calmly like the eye of her emotional storm.

"You're nothing but a child throwing a tantrum," she said. "You look at us – at humans – and see us as weak. You think you can rule because you are strong enough to take it, but in that, you fail to understand what it means to truly be a king."

Loki cocked his head. He looked calm and unruffled at her words, yet she'd spent days in either his head or her own with him for company. There was no way he was unaffected by her words.

"Enlighten me then," he beckoned her.

"Service," she stated. "A lifetime of service to your people. It is not they who serve you – you serve them."

"Now you sound like the All-Father – like my fool of a brother," he spat, whipping away from her.

"So you take my brother as punishment," she spat.

"Ah yes," he stopped, then turned to look at her from over his shoulder. "The hawk. He's been," he paused for another smirk, "most helpful."

"Give him back," she demanded, fingers curling into fists.

"No, I don't believe I will," Loki taunted.

As he walked away from her all Bella could focus on was her anger, her abject fear of losing Clint. She had half a mind to try out Tony's gun on Loki, but after seeing bullets roll off him like little drops of water, she doubted even that would work.

She had a good five minutes left – she had to stall him.

Before she could come up with something, two icy arms circled her from behind, one around her waist and pinning her arms to her side while the other fisted her hair and pulling her head back.

"You two fight like an old married couple," her captor said, her baby bell-like voice grating on Bella's ears.

_Victoria_...

Her eyes flicked to the side to study the redhead, the woman who'd murdered her family. Dimly, she realized Loki had halted, turning back to focus on them.

"Don't worry about your Captain friend," Victoria purred into Bella's ear, her nose sweeping the span of her exposed neck. "I made a few friends along the way here to keep him busy. Still, given the new company you keep I doubt I'll get my chance again, so let's cut right to the chase, shall we?"

Victoria tugged her head to the side and the tangled scream caught in Bella's throat was echoed over the radio line by Natasha and Steve, both of them shouting they were coming...

But their cries were distant and muffled, barely a blip on her radar. What Bella really focused on in that moment was Loki. His brow puckered in confusion as he studied the newcomer. Then his eyes widened in what seemed like recognition but he was too late.

A strangled cry clawed at his throat the same instant Victoria's teeth sank into Bella's jugular with the ease of a hot spoon melting ice cream.

She drank – one, two, three pulls before there was a blast of blue light and her body was flung away from Bella. Without Victoria's arms holding her up, Bella collapsed instantly, her hands reaching to the gaping wound at her neck to staunch the flow of blood.

But then the fire started. Victoria's venom burned at her wound and seeped through her veins, a deadly forest fire that ravaged her body.

Bella's head snapped back against the cement, her mouth falling open as her pained scream rent the night.

A shadow fell over her. Squinting her eyes, Bella reigned in her pain long enough to see Loki looking down at her. Their eyes caught like magnets and before she knew what was happening, he fell, kneeling beside her.

His face hovered over her own, his lips ghosting over her cheek as he brought one of his cold but surprisingly gentle hands up to cover her own where they rested over her wound.

"I have not given you leave to die yet, my siren," he breathed.

Then there was a blue light again. The fire ravaging her body froze, the licking flames set on pause before they snuffed out altogether. Gone was the searing heat and in its wake was ice. Cold, familiar ice chasing away the fire and freezing the venom in its tracks...

_I know this cold_, she thought dimly. "Loki," she gasped in recognition, bringing a bloody hand up to his face.

She thought she felt him move into her palm, accepting her touch, but then her eyes rolled and she gave into the beckoning darkness and knew no more.

(A/N): Thanks so much for reading! I'm curious as to how many of you saw that coming and what your thoughts are... Please do share if you have the time!

*Lines taken straight from the movie (really, they were my fave ones so I couldn't pass them up).

I took some liberties with Demetri's power... I know it's widely believed he can track anyone once he gets a 'taste' of their mind, but I wanted a new spin :)

**Glossary** -

**All-Father**: another name for Odin


	14. Days of Thunder

**(A/N):** Unedited, but hope you enjoy :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13: Days of Thunder<strong>

Safe from her knowing gaze, Loki's shoulders sagged as he kneeled there at her side for a long moment. Seconds ticked by like days and he had the sensation of drowning as they piled up around him.

He'd known they would come for him – it was what he'd intended. That his siren herself would lead the way was not expected. He had not anticipated her ragtag friends allowing her presence before him, not after the ill-effects of their last meeting. He found himself equal parts jealous and relieved of her group, her family. Jealous because now having faced the stark desolation of her imminent death he could freely admit, to himself at least, that he wanted her for his own.

But the relief that his siren was so well protected was nearly staggering. With all that he had learned from her, both through visiting her dreams and the tales he'd stolen from her brother, he considered the very real reason she drew so many powerful individuals to her was because she needed the protection. That brought on a sense of unease about him – a barely bubbling fear of the possibilities that theory drew.

That she was so well protected had been the only thing that had stayed him when he'd felt her fear and panic as she'd made her way to him. As he knew she could as well, the tether connecting them had resonated within him with her growing proximity. Like a taut string pulled between them, the current of her emotions – her fear – had vibrated down the connection and registered as swiftly as if it was his own.

The clenched fist over his heart loosening with her every step in his direction suddenly clenched, choking him in foreign fear. He'd been confused for all of a minute until he recognized the tang of her emotions. It'd been her fear... Her in danger that he'd been feeling.

He'd hesitated. While he never lost his calm smirk, internally he'd felt himself reach a crossroads. Deny the truth as he might, there was no escaping it. His honeyed lies tasted flat even to his own lips. For better or worse he was bound to the girl and the only thing that soothed the sense of indignation of it all was the fact that she was tethered just as tightly to him.

Reciprocation was strangely comforting.

Before he could choose his path, she chose for him. Her fear ignited into fury, then burning relief. Moments later, he sensed her moving towards him again, new determination swelling within her.

Until there she was like some sort of avenging angel, hard determination set in her jaw as she held herself ready, poised for any move he may make. Damn it all if he hadn't felt the always present but still faint stirrings of desire, the feelings that had been kindling between them for weeks, flare into the white hot fire of lust. Her curves were hugged tightly by the smooth leather of her outfit and his hands had clenched in conscious effort to not reach out and touch... Smooth his palms over the tempting lines of her hips and over her rear, pulling her into him so he could kiss her pursed lips until they yielded into a soft pout; until she surrendered to her desire for him for he could feel it swirling inside her. They circled one another, perched on a ledge but both too stubborn to take the leap into the dark abyss of the unknown.

He would not yield – not to anyone, not even her. Even if he had wanted to give in to that sweet surrender, it was not possible. Not with the burden of his chosen path.

Not with the shadow of the Mad Titan hovering over him.

Then she had spoken of her brother and the spell had cracked. Anger gritted his teeth together as she nearly begged for him back, her heart in her eyes for all to see. She loved the hawk so certainly, unashamedly and it unearthed a foreign guilt when he thought of Thor and all his trespasses against him.

He'd shoved those feelings away, locking them down as tightly as he did his affection for the girl. Had Thor not trespassed against him as well? Had Odin not lied to him for years, grooming him for a throne he had planned to give to Thor all along, least Loki taint it with his foreign lineage?

Had the All-Father not spent nights tucking young Loki into bed telling him horror stories of the Frost Giants and Asgard's great victory over them... all the while knowing that his ill-begotten son descended from the very monsters he spoke of?

Lies – his life had been nothing but lies and in the end, he knew for certain where he stood in the eyes of his so-called family.

Forsaken. Abandoned.

And if he had to suffer that loss, he would not suffer alone.

So caught up in their verbal sparring he did not sense the creature approaching. Did not react as he should have when the parasite had taken ahold of his siren, yanking her head back before sinking her venomous fangs into that pretty little neck.

He'd been confused at the creature's words before they truly registered... Vampire. This was the vampire the brother had spoken of when Loki had pried Isabella's history from him. This was the monster intent on ending his siren.

The realization had come seconds too late. A foreign cry of fear had wrung from his throat as he at last registered the parasite's teeth buried into Isabella's neck, her life's blood pouring down the creature's throat.

Dying. His siren was dying right before his eyes.

_No_, the word resonated before his entire being. That was not a truth he accepted.

He acted, siphoning his magic through Gungnir and propelling the beast away from his siren. From his peripherals, he saw the creature land some distance away, injured and winded but still able to pick herself up and escape. A strong urge to follow rose, to finish the bitch who had dared harm who he considered his own, but it was Isabella herself who quelled it. Her pained scream ripped through the night, sinking claws into his heart.

_Go to her_, his magic thrummed within him. _Save her_.

He went to her willingly, vaguely aware of the chaos of people fleeing while he was distracted. Unease filled him as he took in the sight of her writhing in pain, her blood seeping from the gaping wound at her neck as her life drained away. The very sight felt profane, bringing him to his knees.

Kneeling in subjugation as he had bid others to do unto him.

Careful hands were brought to her wound and even with her injured in such a fashion, Lokie still felt the thrumming electricity of their attraction.

_Freeze the venom_, his magic hummed. _Save her_.

His face hovered over hers, lips ever so slightly grazing her supple cheek. Of all the words filling his head, all he could say was, "I have not given you leave to die yet, my siren," before he let slip the leash on his eager magic in a flash of blue light.

_Yes_, he finally agreed with what his magic had been trying to show him all along._ S__ave her_, he silently bid as the spell slipped from him before he could even fully form it, settling over her like an old friend her.

It followed the path of the venom searing her veins, freezing it in its wake even as it stretched out its energy beyond the venom's trail, changing her even as it saved her from being changed.

A hand reached up and caressed his cheek leaving a bloody kiss in its wake. "Loki," she breathed, the one word – his name – dripping with relieved recognition and filling him to the brim with unnamed sentiment.

Her eyes rolled as she collapsed into the embrace of blessed darkness, her hand going limp against his cheek and falling.

Quickly, he caught her hand up in his and brought it back to his face.

"Isabella," he whispered, the name a brand to his heart.

"Loki," he heard again, though this time, his name was filled with censure and the tiniest bit of envy.

He looked up, his eyes roving around the red, white and blue uniform.

"Ah, the soldier out of time," he sneered, lowering Isabella's hand with a carefulness the Captain's keen eyes took notice of.

"I'm not the one out of time," the man shot back even as his eyes focused on the bloodied body before him. Flicking his eyes back up to Loki's, he demanded, "What have you done to her?"

Loki smirked. "I believe the question is what haven't I done... and what won't I do," he taunted, rising from his knees and picking up a vaguely defensive stance in front of her.

"It doesn't have to be this way," the Captain tried to appeal. Even so, Loki watched as his stance widened, bracing himself to attack.

"Apparently it must," he noted, lifting the scepter.

Steve gritted his teeth. "Apparently," he agreed.

Loki took his shot first, the blast from his scepter deflected by that pesky shield. The Captain moved quickly, faster than Loki would've credited a mortal for, returning a hit as surely as he blocked the next.

Still, Loki was a god amongst ants and it wasn't long until he gained the upper hand, the Captain landing on his knees before him. Bringing the base of the scepter to his head, Loki sneered, "You see? In the end, you will always kneel."

"Not today," Steve hissed through gritted teeth, batting the scepter away and springing to his feet. They fought, the Captain feinting left while trying to sneak right passed Loki to Bella's eerily still form.

But Loki would not have it. Not now that he'd decided to keep his siren.

A jet arrived and a woman's voice broke through their fighting. "Surrender Loki, we have you surrounded."

Loki scoffed. "Do you now?"

She would not fire, he knew. Not while he was so close to Isabella.

Static hit the speaker system and Loki's head tilted as an unfamiliar riff of guitars and a screeching voice filled the air.

_Shoot to thrill play to kill  
>Too many women too many pills, yeah<br>Shoot to thrill play to kill  
>I got my gun at the ready gonna fire at will...<em>

The sudden sound was followed up by the one he knew to be called Iron Man landing beside the Captain with a loud, metal thunk.

"Go ahead," the slightly distorted voice of Tony Stark taunted. "Make a move, Reindeer Games."

The inherent threat was followed by the whirling sound of Tony's calvary charging, ready to launch at will.

Lips twitching, Loki held his arms out to his side, his armor melting away as he took a nonthreatening step back towards Isabella.

"Not too close to her," Tony ordered, his arm raised with palm out, ready to fire.

Keeping his tongue, Loki moved ever so slightly to the side but still within arms reach of Isabella. He sat as though cowed by the pair of fighters. His eyes flicked over Isabella's still form as the two bickered before him, planning to take him to their flying fortress.

Planned to bring the wolf in sheep's clothes into their den.

A small smile tried to fight it's way to his lips but Loki smothered it, refusing to tip his hand. Isabella's complication aside, it really was all too easy.

And they wondered why he saw them as ants...

* * *

><p>Shoulder checking the Captain as he passed him, Tony cradled Isabella's form to his chest as they boarded the jet.<p>

"Is she alright? Was she bit? Why is she not in any pain?" Natasha fired off.

"Oh I'm fine, thanks for asking – nice to see you too," Tony returned, his eyes never leaving Bella as he laid her down across several seats.

"Now is not the time for your jokes, Stark," Steve berated, shoving Loki down into a seat and double checking his restraints as Natasha prepared to take off.

Tony ignored him. "Tell me everything that happened tonight," he returned instead, grabbing a nearby first aid kit and cracking it open.

"Well, while you were out doing who knows what, we received intel about Loki being here. Bella insisted on coming – she wanted to find Clint. But it wasn't just Loki we found."

Not looking away from the already knitted wound at her neck, Tony prompted, "Vampires?" as he used some gauze to mop up some of her blood.

"Yes," Steve sighed, some of the fight leaving him. "She took out one with that gun of yours."

Tony's lips twitched. "Of course she did," he murmured proudly, his hand gently sweeping her bangs aside.

"But there were more," Steve countered. "I got held up as soon as she found Loki and Victoria... Well, she saw her chance and she took it."

"Bitten?" Tony asked.

Steve ran a hand throw his hair. "Yes – or at least we thought. We heard it all over the radio, heard her screaming, but then it stopped," he broke off as he moved closer to Tony. Ticking his eyes to an impassive Loki who sat staring blank-faced at Bella, Steve finished, "He did something with that magic staff of his. We don't know what it was but it stopped her screaming."

"Did he now?" Tony turned and followed Steve's gaze, studying their silent captive.

Loki struck Tony as a man with a good sized chip on his shoulder and as he watched the god stare intently at Hell's Bells, he decided not to underestimate the seemingly docile captive.

"I don't like this," Steve murmured beside him. "Him sitting there quietly – the way he looks at her? It's like he wants to be here."

Tony rather agreed but was loathe to do so aloud.

"You there – Prancer? Or is it Vixen? Can't be Rudolph since you don't look so bright," Tony asked, moving to stand in front of Bella and block Loki's gaze from her. "What is it exactly that you've done to our girl here?"

A shiver tickled his spine as Loki met his eyes, a tingle of unease that he never would've owned up to.

Loki remained silent.

"Hello? Anyone home? Are you pouting because no one would let you join in the reindeer games?"

"Don't antagonize him," Steve warned. "The guy packs quite a wallop."

"Hm-m," Tony hummed, backing away from Loki and fixing Steve with a measuring look. "Looks like we've got the drop on him for now. Still, you pretty spry for an old geezer – what's the secret? Yoga? Pillates?"

"What?"

"Keep your secret then," Tony turned away again, going back to Bella and running a hand over her forehead. He frowned. "She's cold – freezing."

As if in response, Bella shivered and groaned, though remained unconscious. "Cold," she said in a thin whisper.

"Hell's Bells," Tony said, running a soothing hand through her hair. "Come on, girl. Stop sleeping on the job."

"Cold," she said again, only this time she followed it up with a soft whisper of Loki's name.

Tony caught Steve's eyes and in unison, they both turned to their prisoner.

Loki heeded them not, his every attention once again focused on Isabella.

Obsessed, Tony thought. He had the look of a religious zealot gazing upon their idle. Obsessed, worshipful...

Loving...

That last bit was the worst and for the first time in, well, just about ever – Tony hoped he was wrong. Maybe he was reading Loki incorrectly and there were no bonds of significant attachment between him and his young friend.

Shaking the disturbing thoughts, he asked Steve, "And Barton?"

A long moment of silence before Steve slowly shook his head.

From the cockpit, Natasha supplied, her voice more subdued than usual, "I spotted him on a nearby rooftop. Part of the reason I kept to the air was his penchant for high perches... But before I could do anything, Victoria was there. Then Bella was screaming. I know she would have preferred I go after him, but I couldn't. Not with her in danger. Clint wouldn't want to be saved at her expense."

The last bit was fairly whispered and while Tony wished he had been there to help, a small part of him was nearly thankful for the reprieve – if one could call his little side visit to Volterra that. But if the events that had unfolded here could have someone like Romanoff whispering in such a manner... Well, Tony would say a big 'no fucking thank you' to that.

"And you, Stark?" Steve questioned, a hint of accusation behind it. "Where the hell were you while Bella was almost murdered?"

Gritting his teeth. "I don't care for your tone, Captain."

"And I don't care for you," Steve returned. "Were you out at some party while someone you claim to care for needed your help – boozing it up, smiling and signing autographs?"

"What's the matter, Rogers? Upset that your invitation got 'lost' in the mail?" Tony shot back, complete with the requisite air quotes around the word lost.

"So you admit it, then?"

Steve had moved to hover over Tony, puffed up in righteous indignation. Shoving him back some, Tony barked, "Ease up there, boy scout. If by party you mean paying a visit to those stodgy vampires in Volterra who have it out for our girl, then yes – you've got it right."

"Volterra?" Steve frowned, slumping back.

"That's right, Dudley Do Right. You weren't the only one tracking down Icky Vicky – good job of that, by the way. Did you really miss when she hightailed it to Italy to warn the calvary? I didn't have a chance to greet the so-called kings but I was able to take out half of Vicky's friends on the way here. So tell me more about how I didn't help..."

"Guys, really? Is this really the time for a pissing contest?" Natasha looked back at them, raising a brow as she gave a pointed glance to Bella and then to Loki.

Whatever their response would've been was interrupted by a bright flash of lightning echoed by a deep rumble of thunder.

Where all attempts to engage Loki had failed, it was this that broke his steady attention away from Bella. He blinked, eyes moving up to stare at the roof of the jet.

"What's the matter? Afraid of a little lightning?" Steve asked.

But Tony knew the myths, had read the files S.H.E.I.L.D. attempted to keep from seeing the light of day... and suspected that someone was about to crash their party.

His musings were broken off by Loki's sarcastic answer, "I'm not overly fond of what follows it."

The quip was followed by a thud to the roof, lightning flickering around and brightening up the inside of the jet like a strobe light.

An unmistakable sound of footsteps sounded until with a token protesting whine, the lift gate in the back was pried down and a man entered the jet.

"Holy shit, it's Fabio!" Tony said, even as he moved to guard Bella from this new being.

The man had long blonde hair flapping in the wind and a red cape he wore surprisingly well even if it brought to mind Shakespeare in the park. His armor was vaguely reminiscent of Loki's which confirmed that this new being was likely here for their prisoner.

Friend or foe? Now that was the question.

Moving with single-minded focus, the man marched to Loki, fisting the front of his clothes and yanking him to stand. The safety harness strapping Loki in was shred like silly string under the force of this man's strength.

The two shared a look, the tall blonde glaring at Loki reprovingly as Loki's lips twitched in goading.

Gritting his teeth, the stranger raised him arm and Tony belatedly noticed the impressive hammer he wielded. Twirling his wrist, he spun the hammer about and it made a faint humming sound like that of a spinning whistle.

And then they were gone – taking flight out the back.

As Tony tried to wrap his mind around the concept of this guy just up and _flying_ away, Bella shot awake with a mindless cry of pain. He and Steve rushed to her side as one of her hands clawed at her chest.

"Loki," she screamed in pain, nails biting into her skin and drawing blood.

"Shit," Tony muttered in realization. "They're still fucking connected."

It was the only thing that made sense. He'd been told of their connection, but hadn't thought it to be this bad.

Or maybe it hadn't been and whatever ju-ju Loki had done with his magic wand had bound Bella tighter to him...

Either way, it didn't matter. Bells was in pain and he knew what he could do to stop it.

His helmet slid down in place and he took sure, steady steps to the still open lift.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? And who was that guy – a friendly?" Steve asked, coming up beside him.

"Doesn't matter – if he kills Loki or sets him free, the tesseract will still be lost. Not to mention what it will do to our girl."

Steve nodded and Tony had the sudden thought that the guy must've finally discovered his balls if he was willing to play it fast and loose now. Then the Captain ruined the vaguely complimentary thought by adding, "We need a plan of attack."

Tony shook his head, disappointed. For a moment there, he thought the Captain was worthy of the cool kids' table.

"I have a plan," Tony scoffed, then spat out his next word scathingly, "_Attack_."

Then he leapt out of the jet.

"Track 'em down, Jarvis," he said. "Loki has a prior engagement with Miss Swan and Point Blank is not invited."

"Very well, sir," Jarvis said in his dulcet tones.

And Tony was off, hell bent on recapturing the war criminal Loki but not for the good of S.H.I.E.L.D. or some misplaced sense of patriotism.

But for the good of Isabella Swan.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN):** Oh yeah – welcome Thor to the party!

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and Loki's POV, as well as the surprise bit of Tony POV at the end there... I did break off an extra segment of this chapter to use for the start of next so it is a little shorter than usual. Still, it flows better this way and chapter 14 will now feature a new POV. I really hope you'll like it as I found it to be... electrifying... teehee.

As always, love hearing from you all so go ahead and review if you have time. Keep in mind, though, that I can't really answer your questions directly if you don't sign in... and I may not be able to answer them at all for the sake of not giving away the entire plot. Be sure to follow me on facebook (link on my profile) as I post teasers and also address questions there too :)

**Glossary**:

**Gungnir** – the name of Odin's staff which is refashioned into Loki's scepter, the crown of which is the Mind Stone/Gem.

**Tesseract** – the Space Stone/Gem


	15. Hammer Time

**(A/N): **Unedited - thanks for your patience. Shout out to mommy4thomas for the chapter title :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14: Hammer Time<strong>

Some saw the world in black and white. Others looked around and viewed it in muted tones of grey, combining both the good and bad knowing that one could not exist without the other.

Clint Barton saw the world in a haze of blue. He felt smothered by it, like someone had pulled blue transparent plastic wrap over his face, tainting his vision, suffocating him even as some vague part of him fought the clinging hold. The more he fought against it, the stronger the wrap became until he was all but snuffed out. Cast aside, relegated to the deepest recesses of his mind as he watched events play out like he was watching a badly filmed 8mm movie.

There were moments, however, where the blue fog would pull ever so slightly back and he caught a glimpse of color. A woman obscured by the blue veil, yet at times when he pictured her just a flash from the corner of his mind, he saw her hair shining the vibrant ferocity of fire. Red – a faint voice in the back of his mind whispered. Fire, passion... love.

Other times, it was a different face that haunted him. A recent memory of a crumpled woman at his feet, felled by his own hand. Her face appeared to him often and the expression in those chocolate brown eyes haunted him like a knife to his gut, slowly twisting. Desolation, complete and utter desolation filled those eyes to the brim as they stared up at him and yet...

There was love there too. Forgiving and familial. Just the memory of those eyes gave Clint the sensation of taking a rich sip of hot chocolate. Warmth flooded through his limbs, breathing in new life like his entire body had fallen asleep but was now feeling the pins and needles of awareness.

For a moment, the blue veil retreated and a thin whisper escaped his lips.

"Eyas."

A small voice answered him, an echo of a now distant memory dancing beyond the edge of his grasp... "Hawkeye."

The images fluttered like a dandelion scattered to a winter's breeze. The hints of color... of feelings just at the tip of the horizon dimmed and once more, the world was tainted in blue mist.

His sister was lost to him as he again became shrouded in the blue fog, a heavy cloak pulling him beneath the waves of awareness.

* * *

><p>A storm was brewing.<p>

Across from him, Loki was a picture of practiced ease and Thor studied his wayward brother with the critical eye of one deciphering a riddle. He knew the nonchalance to be a front to hide the well of his true emotions and wondered what it was Loki was truly feeling at this moment – the moment of their reunion. Fear? Happiness? Resentment?

Thor knew those very emotions were what swelled within his own breast. It was a gathering storm he knew he must tame if he wanted the answers he and his people sought.

"Loki, what have you done?" the accusation fell from his lips, falling with a heavy thud as though he had plunked Mjolnir on the dirt between them.

He regretted the words the instant his brother's lips twisted in a mild scoff and bitterness glinted in his eyes. Whatever window of opportunity there'd been to appeal with reason was slammed shut by his haste words and Thor fought the sinking feeling in his gut that his brother would be forever lost to him.

"Nice to see you as well, brother," Loki greeted him with the cool nod.

Fighting his anger at the flippant greeting, Thor gritted his teeth and ground out, "Do I look to be in a gaming mood? You fell – fell from the Bifrost and we thought you dead. _I _thought you dead."

"And did you mourn me?"

Thor frowned. "Of course I did. We all did. Our mother, our father-"

"Your father," Loki cut in, rising from where Thor had tossed him upon landing on the rocky edge of a small mountain. "He did tell you, did he not? Of my true parentage."

Unable to hold Loki's accusing and angry gaze, Thor looked away and thought upon the night his brother had fallen and the dark confession their father had laid bare. He'd understood Odin's reasoning but could well see justification for Loki's anger as well. What had started out as a lie to protect a child turned black and dark the longer it festered, turning the well-meaning love of a parent into a wide chasm between father and son. Loki had come of age a long many years ago and should've been told the truth then. To have discovered his life had been a well crafted lie – that he was of the same heritage from what their people told children as horror stories...

Yes, Thor could well understand Loki's rage. Yet he still recognized Odin's attempt to protect the son of his heart, if not his blood, from such knowledge. Where Thor had once looked upon the All-Father as a righteous and infallible king, he now saw a tired man who was not perfect but attempted his best for his people and for his family.

"It matters not," Thor said resolutely, his deep voice vibrating with sincerity. "We were raised as brothers – fought beside one another as brothers. You are my brother, Loki. Do you not remember that?"

"I remember a shadow," Loki hissed, eyes glittering in the dark night. "I remember living in the shade of your glory while being fed lies from my infancy. Raised to be a king only to be cast aside – thrown away by those who would call me family. You yourself let me fall."

Frowning, Thor reeled back, the memory of gripping Loki's hand as he dangled off the jagged edge of the broken Bifrost bridge leaping to the forefront of his mind. He had held onto Loki's hand with all of his might, pleading for his brother to hold on. It hadn't been until Odin had joined them, denying Loki's questionable tactics at peace-rearing, that Loki himself had let go and fallen into the dark abyss of the wormhole created by the Bifrost's destruction.

As he stared at his brother now, Thor was struck by how Loki seemed to remember the ill begotten events so differently. Perhaps his brother's own selfish but still untainted affections had led him to try to destroy the Frost Giants in a show of loyalty in a visceral demonstration of forsaking his lineage? Like the offerings of old made in Odin's name; an act to prove himself worthy of the throne of Asgard and thus earn their father's love.

Had Loki been trying to prove himself after learning the truth in some misguided demonstration of loyalty? Even as he'd struck a mortal Thor with a killing blow their last visit upon Midgard, there'd been a hesitance.

Internally scoffing, Thor swept those thoughts aside, unsure of their veracity and fearful of them being only wishful thinking.

"You have brought yourself to these depths, Loki. Not I nor any other. Tell me – what is it you hope to accomplish here?"

"Is it not obvious?" Loki asked, smirking. "I mean to rule them, these mortals. A pathetic fiefdom they may be, but I will unite this lump you treasure under the glory of _my_ rule."

"So you take the world I hold dear in recompense for your imagined slights?" Thor said in disbelief. "You cannot believe your own lies, Loki. Please – I beg of you – give up this foolish plan. Relinquish this lustful vengeance and come home. Come home, Loki."

"Home," Loki muttered scathingly. "What you call home is now but a prison to me – a hellish nightmare that I would rather see burn than ever return to."

Thor reeled back at the utter disdain radiating from his brother. The darkness of his fury had clearly twisted Loki's perception and altered his view on the things he'd once treasured. He feared that same darkness had claimed his brother for good, snuffing out any light in his heart.

Yet, Thor's mind flickered with another recent memory. Heimdall had taken post at the edge of the broken Bifrost, his far reaching gaze surveying the worlds they were temporarily cut off from. It'd been him who had notified them of Loki's actions and as Odin scrambled for dwindling scraps of magic to send Thor to Midgard in order to contain his brother and secure the tesseract, Thor had joined the guardian at his post.

"What see you of Loki, Heimdall?" Thor had greeted not mere minutes before Odin had sent him to Midgard.

"I fear madness has claimed him," Heimdall had told him, his wise voice heavy even as he maintained his vision upon the wayward prince worlds away. "He has stolen the tesseract and tainted Gungnir. He uses the spear to control the mortals around him, bending them to his will in his quest to enslave them."

Thor's head had fallen, thankful to not see his once beloved brother committing such heinous acts yet fearful in the knowledge he would witness them in person soon.

"But he is not without hope," Heimdall said, his voice a fluttering whisper on the edge of space.

Thor frowned, lifting his head and fixing the ancient guardian with a questioning look.

"Darkness has all but claimed him," Heimdall acknowledged. "But a small, flickering spot of light remains. Protect the light; nurture it until it sparks an all-consuming glow. It is the key to Loki's redemption."

"What light, Heimdall? What is it that you speak of?"

A pause and his father's guards descended to take him to the throne room where Odin had gathered the last of their resources to send him to Loki.

Thor feared Heimdall would not answer – perhaps there was no way to give voice to one – and the small chance he had of saving his brother would go unnamed.

But as he yielded to the guards and started to turn, Heimdall spoke so quietly, Thor doubted any other but him heard.

"Her name is Isabella."

Isabella...

The name had haunted him as he dogged the steps of the guards; it'd echoed in his heart as Odin bid him to save Loki where he himself could not.

"And will you see Midgard burn as well, brother? Just another casualty in your schemes of power?" Thor spoke quietly, his eyes studying Loki as he carefully continued, "Will you see Isabella burn with it?"

The effect was instant. Everything about Loki halted, his body tightening like a taut string prone to snap. A hand rose to his chest, absently rubbing as his gaze went distant.

Just as easily as his defenses were lowered, they were raised back up. Loki's eyes turned into two hard diamonds glittering as he fixed Thor with a harsh glare. "Oh well played, brother. Well played indeed. I believe you've mistaken me for yourself, though. I am not the one with a penchant for mortal woman," he stopped, a truly vicious smirk twisting his lips. "How is little Jane Foster?" he asked in mock civility. "Perhaps I should pay her a visit and -"

"Bite your tongue," Thor raged, storming forward and grabbing Loki by the lapel of his jacket.

Loki snickered. "So predictable," he taunted.

Gritting his teeth, Thor raised his hammer threateningly, but before he could do anything he was hit with a blast of energy. Tumbling backwards, his hold on Loki slipped and a man of metal landed between them, palm outstretched in warning.

"Easy there, Fabio. It's nothing personal. Reindeer Games here is needed and no one invited you to the party."

Thor brought a hand up to his busted lip. Feeling the small trickle of blood there, he smiled lightly. His grip tightened on his hammer. "You are mistaken, metal man. Loki is to come with me. He must face Asgardian justice."

"I prefer the name Iron Man, though the suit isn't made of iron. It's actually a gold titanium alloy..."

"I care not what your armor is made of," Thor scoffed. "You would do well not to interfere. Leave now. I will take Loki from your world and doing so will save the lives of many of your people."

Far from appeasing the new player, Thor's words did the opposite. There was a whirl of mechanic sounds as the metal man charged up to fire again.

"I only care about the life of one person right now," the robotic man said, voice hard and demanding. "And for the time being, it seems hers is connected to his so I'll only say this nicely once: stop trying to steal my toys."

Uncaring of the implied threat, Thor raised his hammer. "Do not meddle in affairs you know nothing about."

"I know that your cape makes you look like a Disney channel school girl dressed up for trick-o-treating. Tell me – do you and Loki take turns braiding each other's hair while complaining about how your parents just don't understand you?"

Gritting his teeth, Thor hurled his hammer at the metal warrior only for a shield to be tossed between them, effectively deflecting Mjolnir back into his hand.

"There's really no need for that," the newcomer decked in red, white and blue said reasonably. "I'm certain we all want the same thing."

From the corner of his eye, Thor was aware of Loki moving back and leaning against a tree trunk, enjoying the spectacle.

"I seek to bring Loki to justice for his actions and to recover the tesseract; keep it from falling into the hands of those who mean harm."

"Then prove it," the man countered. "Put down the hammer."

"Yeah, no – he loves his hammer," the metal fiend shot in.

Too late. Thor's impetuous anger took root again and he thundered, "You want me to put the hammer down?"

Lightning cracked the air around them.

"Now you've done it," the Iron Man intoned before a crack of lightning hit him square in the chest.

The shield flew at Thor who easily dodged it and the trio engaged in a scuffle that felled the surrounding trees, ending with Thor releasing his might against said shield. The backlash had all three of them repelling backwards and in the end, only Loki remained standing a subtle distance away.

"Are you boys finished?" a cool, feminine voice interjected as each of them eyed each other warily.

Thor turned and eyed the woman who'd spoken. She was clad in black leather, her red hair short as it blew in the breeze. Though there was nothing alike in their looks, her bearing reminded him of the warrior Sif. A grudging respect stirred for the woman who eyed them as if they were nothing but errant children.

"No," the Iron Man pouted.

"Oh really," she crossed her arms across her chest. "Need I remind you who is suffering while you children engaging in this pissing contest?"

Thor frowned, his confusion rising as both his opponents lowered their eyes to the floor and accepted the reprimand. Even more baffling was Loki, who slowly eased closer, his hand once again at his chest and rubbing.

In the nearby distance, a female voice was faint, crying lightly on the wind.

He assumed the others heard it as well for their eyes cut to where the black outline of their transport was silhouetted in the moonlight.

A demand for an explanation was poised on Thor's lips but before he could lobby about orders, Loki strode forward with a sharp hiss. He eyed each of them caustically before his eyes cut to the plane when a weak whimper of his name fell into the clearing.

"Loki," the unseen female gasped beseechingly, an aching sorrow filling the word.

In response, Loki's posture straightened. His hard eyes still glaring at each of them, he turned without a word and strode to the plane without a single glance back.

There was a moment of near stunned disbelief. Thor's mind reeled at the implications, his feet carrying him to the plane without any conscious effort on his part. Vaguely, he was aware of the others following him.

The sight that greeted him upon entering the craft had his legs locking and eyes widening.

Perched on a bench was his brother. Beside him was a slender, attractive woman. She appeared to be injured. He guessed correctly that it'd been her cries they'd heard as even now, her lips quivered as though holding back pain-filled whimpers. Sweat puckered her brow as she shivered. There was barely enough room for air to come between them, the entire side of her body molded closely to his brother's though they weren't touching. Her head was tilted up and Loki's was tilted down and to the side, meeting her eyes.

Though nothing was said between them, Thor was left with the distinct feeling he was interrupting a private moment between two lovers.

As he continued to watch in silence, the woman's wide eyes fluttered closed and her head fell as if she lacked the strength to hold it up any longer. It landed on Loki's shoulder in a gentle thud. The moment they made contact, her body sighed in relief. Her tense features eased and a relieved breath of air wooshed passed her lips as she rubbed her cheek against Loki's shoulder like a cat showing affection.

Loki, too, was not unaffected.

The subtle tension underlying his every move siphoned away, his taut shoulders easing. There was relief in his entire bearing, though the stubborn superiority remained. Whereas the woman gave in, her body yielding into his brother's, Loki remained staunchly stiff. While it was obvious he was more at ease, he remained uncompromising. His eyes stared at the top of the woman's head, a barely perceptible softness to them, before they hardened once again and he turned his head away from her. Thor knew he was aware of his silent audience, but Loki did not deign to acknowledge them, his gaze riveted to the empty seat across from him.

He did not, however, move away from the woman. Nor did he remove her from his person.

That silent acceptance was enough for Thor to see the truth of Heimdall's words. Madness had all but claimed his brother, yet still – in the twisted darkness of his festering hate – a small pinpoint of light existed. Loki may have set himself on a dark path, but he was not without hope. There was light yet to guide him home.

Unable to look away, Thor murmured the woman's name. The single word held the weight of a thin prayer.

"Isabella."

Isabella – the key to his brother's redemption.

* * *

><p>Huddled in the dark cold, Bella pulled her arms around herself and shivered.<p>

A dim part of her was aware that she was unconscious – that the freezing, barren landscape was nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Somewhere she was lying, hopefully safe and under the care of her friends, lost to the waking world.

Memories that led up to the dark cold circled her, drifting like little snow flurries clinging to her hair...

Loki... Victoria... Being bitten... Loki...

And then a numbing cold snuffing out the fire of Victoria's venom. Cold, she was so very cold.

A presence, a slow trickling warmth met her back and she was no longer alone.

Hands circled her, pulling her back into comforting heat. No words were spoken. Bella knew that Loki had found his way into her subconscious again and for once, she was thankful for his presence.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN):** As ever, thanks for your patience and for reading and reviewing. I love you more than Hulk loves to smash ;)

**Glossary** (just in case):

Eyas - term for a baby hawk in falconery

Mjolnir - name of Thor's hammer

Midagrd - Earth

Gungnir - name of Odin's spear. Loki has turned it into the staff.

Heimdall - all-seeing and all-hearing guardian sentry of Asgard who stands on the rainbow bridge Bifrost to watch for any attacks to Asgard (played by Idris Elba in the movies).


	16. Blizzard

**(A/N): **Sorry for the delay – hope you all enjoy! Please check out my profile for a link to my wordpress blog to see about a contest I'm hosting. Would love for you all to participate by writing and/or voting!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15: Blizzard<strong>

Bruce wasn't exactly sure what had happened on the mission but as Nick Fury jogged passed the lab barking out orders to agents in a heightened version of his no-bullshit tone, he knew it was safe to say it'd gone belly up.

Hand hovering over the computer screen, he hesitated. Curiosity was a dangerous thing though and Bruce shook his head to clear it.

"Not your problem – just do your job and get out, Banner," he mumbled, plugging in some numbers.

While the equations he was using to track the gamma radiation thrown off from the tesseract were long and tedious, he found his hand moving in rote distraction. The majority of his mind was focused around the perplexing Isabella Swan and the mystery surrounding her. Seemed to him she was at the root of this entire predicament though the others appeared to dance around that fact. Her file – he wondered if she knew S.H.I.E.L.D. had a rather extensive file on her that was growing by the minute – mentioned she'd dreamt of the terrorist Loki before his arrival; Bella herself had confessed as much in her guilt laden plea for help.

Bruce couldn't help but to wonder if it hadn't been the tesseract calling Loki to Earth after all... Perhaps it'd been Bella Swan drawing yet another powerful being into her fold. Even Bruce himself had fallen, much to his combined amusement and dismay. Just a warm and honest smile flashed at him and he suspected even the Other Guy would be inclined to follow the girl around like a stray puppy.

Sighing, he swiped his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. While his thoughts didn't sound entirely complimentary, he didn't mean them rudely. Much to his horror, he'd fallen under her spell less than five minutes after meeting her. Were he a younger man, that quick finish would have him blushing.

But still, what an honest and refreshing five minutes they were... There'd been no condemnation from her, no suspicion or fear; only a healthy amount of respect for his dual nature combined with genuine gratitude for his help, unwilling though it'd been. He was unwilling no more, however, though the part of him conditioned for suspicion was already planning his exit strategy should it become necessary to abandon ship. He was well used to a life on the run and it struck odd not to be running now. He'd be prepared, though, should it become necessary.

Only more time would prove whether she was worth the risk all of them carried for her but Bruce already suspected the answer to that. A soul as welcoming and vulnerable as hers even after all she had suffered was worth protecting.

His musings were interrupted by Phil Coulson. The usually unflappable man had a frenzied air around him, eyes wider than normal and his usually impeccable tie loosened about an inch. As if in response to the observations, Coulson's hand raised to smooth down his neck tie and Bruce frowned, noting how there was a barely perceptible quiver in the movement.

"You're needed in the medical wing. Now," his tone brooked no refusal and he didn't even stop for Bruce to acknowledge him.

Scrambling, Bruce jogged and caught up with the harried man.

"What is it? Don't you already have doctors on hand – I'm nearly finished with my calculations," Bruce said, merely a token protest. Mentally, he noted how the frantic air around the man permeated and effected everyone they passed.

"Not any with your insight," Coulson said distractedly, pushing aside a door and herding Bruce into what was clearly an infirmary.

It was void of people save two doctors prepping a table and random machines.

"Well?" Bruce asked Coulson, feeling rather impatient. He wanted to finish his calculations and start working on Bella's mysterious affliction. His promise to help the girl was sincere and he wanted to start cataloguing the results from the various tests he'd run on the small sample of blood he'd managed to snag before she'd left on her mission.

"Um, I don't really like needles," she'd bitten her lip while eying him nervously as he approached her with aforementioned needle.

Despite himself, Bruce had smiled in a combination of reassurance and amusement. "Just a pinch, Bella. You can trust me, I'm a doctor."

She'd snorted, giving a casual glance around to make sure no one had followed him in before sighing and holding out her arm in silent offering.

Sympathizing with her fear, Bruce had worked quickly and efficiently. "There now," he said, securing the sample as he place a band-aid on her arm. "Sorry I don't have a sticker or lollipop to offer you."

She'd beamed up at him. "Thanks again, Dr. Banner – for your help," she said, then added, "and your discretion."

Bruce had nearly preened under her smile. "Not another word on it, Bella – and please, call me Bruce."

Nodding, she turned to go back to getting ready to leave.

"Bella," he called out before he'd made the thought to. She'd turned in askance and Bruce gave her a small, awkward closed mouth smile. "Try to stay safe out there."

Her answering smile had been so warm and comforting. "I'll do my best, Bruce."

Then she'd marched off. If ever there was a picture of sheer determination, she would've been it. There could be no mistaking it, even nervous as she was – Bella Swan was on a mission and aimed to see it through.

Now the memory struck him as heavy, laden with a foreshadowing. A tingle of unease danced down his spine and Bruce took a deep, steadying breath. No use borrowing trouble by getting emotional.

He could hear voices coming down the hall and moments later the door was slamming open with authority, a team of agents spilling into the room and lining the walls with their weapons drawn and at the ready.

The sense of being trapped sparked, suspicion igniting that his assistance being 'needed' had been but a ruse to corner him. Before he could give in to the mounting panic, Fury entered the room and behind him was a most unusual scene.

He recognized Tony Stark instantly leading the way, his infamous suit still on though the helmet removed. Bruce knew he'd been active if not present on the team and he wondered when he'd arrived. The good Captain was behind him and appeared to be talking to him though his gaze was fixed behind him.

Frowning, Bruce followed his gaze and shocked hit him like lightning as he instantly recognized the terrorist known as Loki. Distantly, he was aware that they'd picked up another stray – a man of impressive stature with long blonde hair and a cape – Romanoff was hovering just behind him and they both boxed Loki in, preventing escape.

Loki himself appeared entirely too at ease. Taller than he expected, Bruce studied the man responsible for much chaos. He towered over just about everyone but was a bit shorter and more slender than the blonde guy in the cape. Still, there was an impressive air of strength around him that was totally unexpected. More to that, while he appeared completely at ease, Bruce picked up how Loki's gaze took in his surroundings calculatingly. Whatever conclusion he'd reached by studying their tableau appeared to anger him, his eyes tightening ever so slightly as his arms shifted.

The movement caught Bruce's attention and he belatedly realized Loki was holding something cradled to his chest with a careful protectiveness so at odds with the rest of his demeanor. As Bruce's eyes fell to the bundle, he inhaled sharply. A strong wave of anger hit him, his vision tinting green for a terrifying moment as his heart thudded in his ears, a rapid staccato that sounded like a ticking bomb.

Even through the faint green tinge, Bella looked pale and small gathered up in Loki's arms, his jacket pulled over her so as to block her from unnecessary eyes. Despite the rather sickly tone to her, she actually seemed to be resting well, her hands curled around the lapel of Loki's jacket as though to anchor him to her. Her blue tinted lips were teased upwards ever so slightly.

It was that hint of a smile that allowed him to tame the anger that had swelled so unexpectedly at the sight of her helpless in the arms of such a dangerous being. Bruce inhaled once more and slowly exhaled, uncurling his fingers that had folded into fists unbeknownst to him. His heart rate slowed and shoulders slumped. From the corner of his eye, he saw Fury lowering his firearm.

Despite the situation, he couldn't help but inwardly scoff at the man.

Yeah, as if his little toy gun would've helped... Would've just pissed the Other Guy off even more.

Apparently his small lapse of control had caught Loki's attention as well. The man's hands pulled Bella even closer to him but Bruce was confused by the glint of anticipation in his eyes and the faint smirk that had crossed his lips as if he knew something they all did not.

Wouldn't surprised Bruce one bit if that was true.

Shaking himself out of it, Bruce finally cottoned on to the fact that Bella had somehow been injured and that they had called him to treat her.

Mind racing, he also came to the conclusion that had they been capable of separating Bella from Loki, that would've been the first thing they'd done. Fury had likely planned to toss Loki into some fancy cell and throw away the key until he would cooperate. The fact that they'd turned the medical wing into some sort of firing squad prison was telling and Bruce's thoughts automatically jumped to what Bella had told him after his initial debriefing.

"_The others don't know?" he clarified, pulling her shirt closed for her._

"_They know about the pull," she said. "Fury wants to use me as a Loki compass but with the distance between us being so far there's no way of discerning where the pull is directing me to. It just hurts – all the time. There's no relief, not even in sleep. And the blue tint? It's spreading. It started as a small point over my heart, then it bled out."_

Bruce remembered his promise to her and the, "_Thank you_," that had fallen from her lips like a stray feather floating home. Small and airy, but also strangely beautiful.

With that promise in mind, Bruce locked down his anger at seeing his young friend in the arms of such a dangerous being and resolved to get the answers she, and they, all needed.

Gesturing to the table that the other doctors had been prepping behind him, Bruce invited, "To the table, if you please. Do not break contact with her."

Lifting a vaguely taunting brow, Loki was silent as he moved towards the table in question. He appeared amused as the agents compensated for his movement, shifting about to keep him surrounded. If Bruce had to put a guess to the condescending thoughts running through Loki's mind at their actions, he'd have to say he thought them cute.

"How did you know that he can't release her?" Fury demanded, not bothering to hide his suspicion.

Bruce snorted. "As if you would've allowed him traipsing through the halls carrying her otherwise?"

Tony grinned, moving forward to volunteer his assistance whether they wanted it or not. "Another smarty pants! And he's quite right – don't insult the man's intelligence now. Wouldn't want to make him angry."

Despite himself, Bruce was amused. "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry," he smarted.

"Oh I dunno, big guy. Seems like the angry monkey on your back could be fun – he'd be an awesome drinking buddy at the least. Bet he could hold his liquor."

"I care not of this talk of drunken merriment," the tall blonde man interjected. "There are more important things requiring our attention."

"Ease up there, Fabio," Tony said, not glancing away from the computer screen he'd commandeered. "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

"Those are not my names, metal man."

"Really?" Tony lifted a brow in mock surprise. "Let's see if we can guess it... definitely something out of a romance novel. Something whimsical to match that cape. Gerard? Georgio?"

"My name is Thor and you'd do well to remember it," the man, Thor god of lightning, apparently, snapped.

"Enough," Fury interjected as Tony opened his mouth to his retort. "Agent Romanoff – report!"

Natasha snapped to attention and woodenly relayed the details of the entire mission, albeit with some editing considering their perceived enemy was sitting amongst them.

Bruce listened intently even as he putted around Bella. Loki had laid her down on the table and then leaned back against it, his hand running distractedly through her hair as his keen eyes followed them all, drinking in the scene they made.

"Bitten?" Bruce cut in. "But then why isn't she...?" he trailed off, uncomfortable with trying to find a polite way of phrasing 'screaming bloody murder.'

"He did something with that staff of his," Romanoff narrowed her eyes at Loki. "Instead of burning, she appears to be freezing. She's extremely cold to the touch and shivers constantly."

Sighing, Bruce gave Loki a weary look and half-heartedly asked, "Don't suppose you'd care to make my job easy and let us know what it is you did?"

Loki lifted a brow. Saying nothing, he turned away from him and fixed his attention back to Bella.

"Well if that wasn't the proverbial _fuck you..._" Tony trailed off dryly.

Another sigh from Bruce. "Right then," he said, moving to Bella while actively trying to ignore the intimidating man hovering over her. Though he refused to look at Loki, he could feel the man's eyes following his every move.

First things first, Bruce decided, tilting Bella's head aside to examine the bite wound.

Except there was no wound.

Frowning, Bruce traced over the already healed scar at her neck, his fingers tingling with cold as though he'd just caressed an ice cube. There was a faint sparkle to the mark, reminiscent of what he'd read in her file as being attributed to the vampires, but it was more of a subtle sheen than a glitter. Beyond the shimmer, Bruce was more intrigued and concerned by the blue lines tracing over the wound like a delicate spiderweb spun over it.

His eyes connected with Loki's and very carefully, suddenly very wary of what the man would do to him, Bruce went to Bella's top. Making sure to block the others, save Tony who was hovering about like a concerned mother hen, from viewing, Bruce carefully pulled back the material and glanced at the lines on her chest.

They were still there but different. Instead of the angry, vivid lines she'd shown him before, now the blue tracings held the same shimmer as the bite on her wound. They looked calmer, too, less noticeable and oddly delicate and graceful looking. Bruce suspected that whatever Loki had done combined with the venom that had entered her system had simultaneously healed and solidified whatever connection there was between the two of them.

He looked at Loki once more. "I presume you have a matching set?"

Of course, the god said nothing but there was a barely perceptible flicker in his eyes that gave Bruce his answer.

"Right," he mumbled.

Deciding that the blood sample currently being tested in the lab was probably moot now, he opted to start at square one. Reaching for a syringe, he quickly prepped Bella's arm to take another sample and pressed the tip of the needle to her arm.

_Snap_.

Bruce blinked and started at the broken needle for a long moment, uncomprehending.

Across from him, Tony gave a low whistle through his teeth. "Well doesn't that spice things up a bit?" he joked, but there was no missing the frown of concern.

Thinking of the ramifications, Bruce slowly turned to the large group. "I think it'd be best if the majority of you leave soon."

"No body's leaving," Fury countered, moving closer to the table. "In case you've forgotten, Dr. Banner, there's a very serious threat present in this room."

Gritting his teeth, Bruce ground out, "I've forgotten nothing, Colonel, but pretty soon the threat is going to be a very hungry newborn vampire wanting to rip out all of our throats."

Fury blinked, his eyes flicking down to Bella. "So she is turning...?"

"Based on the temperature and texture of her skin, I'd say it's a logical bet that she is," Bruce admitted. "In three days time, we'll have a nearly indestructible version of Bella on our hands and I fear she won't play nice."

There was a long moment of silence amongst them all as Bruce's words sank in.

"No one leaves," Fury reiterated finally.

"Well," Tony broke in, clapping his hands in front of him. "You bring in a doctor for his educated opinion on how to proceed and then ignore him – fantastic," he drew out sarcastically.

"We can't risk Loki unguarded," Fury pointed out, ignoring Tony. "And we can't risk leaving her unguarded."

"So clear out all but a few," Bruce suggested.

Fury appeared lost in thought, his eye roving over Bella's still form until a sigh passed through his lips almost unwillingly. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly as he blinked, long and heavy. When he opened his eye again, Bruce was disturbed by the grim determination he saw gleaming as he continued to stare at Bella.

Without hesitation, Fury unholstered Bella's gun from her side – the one she'd used to kill Laurent – and gritted his teeth as he slowly aimed it at her.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Tony stood at attention, every ounce of his playful sarcasm gone as the words fell into the room, quiet and most assuredly deadly.

Not looking at him, Fury said, "If she's turning, she's a threat to each and every one of us here. We've no way to contain or handle her..."

"Put the gun down," Steve said, easing further into the room and clutching his shield at his side, ready to throw it if necessary.

"She's not a lame horse to be put down," Bruce said, horrified at the turn of events.

"She's a liability," Fury retorted. "And if you all were thinking logically and not emotionally, you'd all admit that."

"Sir," Natasha interjected, swallowing as she stared wide-eyed at the scene. "With all do respect... We don't know for sure she's changing – Loki did something with the staff and – "

"And that sounds like wishful thinking," Fury cut in. "You know, all of you know, this is what she would want."

"Of course it is," Tony said, still in that deceptively calm tone. "The girl is entirely too self-sacrificing but you're jumping the gun. There's no way to tell what is happening with her."

They then began to talk over each other, their voices increasing with each word as they argued back and forth. Even Thor marked his distaste saying, "You humans – so quick to give up and betray each other." To which there was more heated words exchanged, the tension building until Bruce closed his eyes, head pounding as he fought for calm when all he wanted was to give in to anger.

"You'd do well," a new voice interjected, silencing the entire room. "To lower your weapon."

Eyes still closed, Bruce knew who had spoken.

"And what are you going to do to make me?" Fury shot back.

Bruce blinked his eyes open and felt a shiver of unease as Loki merely smirked at the Colonel.

Thor sidled up to Loki's side, remarking, "You'd do well not to underestimate my brother."

"Finally learned something, have we?" Loki taunted, his eyes still fixed unerringly onto Fury. He looked calm but Bruce saw the glint in his eyes. He was like a coiled cobra, prepared to strike.

"Listen," Tony broke in. "Save the family drama for Jerry Springer and let's get back to business. Bella's not turning into a vampire so put the damn gun down before I make you – and something tells me it'd be harder to get by on one hand when you're already missing an eye."

"And just how do you know that, Stark," Fury asked, ignoring the threat.

"Because I won't let her," he said simply. "We've got three days, right? Plenty of time to find a cure."

"A cure," Fury said, the heavy amount of disbelief hanging on the words damn near insulting. Not that Bruce could blame him.

"Did I stutter?" Tony raised a brow.

"You're going to find a cure for vampirism in three days?" Bruce asked, eyes bugging out.

"Correction," Tony stated, "_We_ are going to find a cure for vampirism in three days."

"We are?" Bruce deadpanned.

"Yup," Tony said, then turned to Fury. "So put that gun down, get these assholes out of our workspace and let us work in peace."

Fury took a heavy breath. "Three days," he stated, finally lowering the firearm. "You have less than seventy-two hours to either find a cure or confirm she's not changing. After that," he sighed again. "I don't want to pull the trigger but I will."

"Roger that," Tony said. "Now vamoose, kiddos; daddy's got to work."

"Romanoff, Rogers – you're to stay and guard Loki," Fury ordered, turning on his heel and marching to the door. "As soon as he can be removed from Bella's side he is to be escorted to containment and then interrogation. No exceptions."

"I will remain as well," Thor stated, not giving Fury a chance to dispute before he plunked his hammer down with a thud and crossed his arms over his chest.

Fury gave him a sardonic look before piercing Natasha with a demanding glare. "Find out what you can and then report to me."

Natasha nodded, taking up position by the door as Fury exited, a stream of agents trailing after him.

Coulson lingered. He looked around at each of them, mouth opening as if to say something, before he glanced at Bella once more and closed it. He nodded to himself and then turned and exited.

"Well," Tony said. "That was awkward. Shall we get to work?"

Bruce nodded, determination filling his entire being. He'd not break his promise to Isabella. He wouldn't let her down.

Across from him, Loki's eyes gleamed as his long pale fingers began to dance through Bella's hair once more.

Huddled against him for warmth, Bella's teeth chattered.

"Are you going to explain to me what's happening?" she shivered, burrowing into him further.

Loki's arms tightened around her. "Worried, are you?"

She snorted. "I was bit by a vampire and I'm now caught in some snowy dream world with you – yes, color me worried."

"Hm," he said, nothing more.

"You're such a bastard, you know that?" she groused, unable to add real heat to the words when she felt frozen to the bone.

"So they tell me," he said dryly. Then abruptly, he commented, "Strange friends you keep – ones willing to kill you at little notice."

"What?" she frowned.

"Even now as you lay all but asleep, they make plans to kill you."

An unnamed combination of emotions swirled in her gut and she stopped shivering. "How do you know this?"

Loki dropped his head down by hers, his cheek grazing her as he said, "I am often in more than one place at a time, little siren."

"Am I turning into a vampire?" she asked point blank. If what he said was true – and knowing Loki it was a big IF – then that was the only reason she could see for such preparations against her. Honestly, it was what she'd want them to do. The thought of not only becoming a monster but of facing the wide span of eternity with nothing but herself as company, alone as those she loved fell victim to time... It was horrifying.

Loki was silent before he answered tersely, "No."

"Then what is happening to me?" she demanded, fear starting to get the better of her. "Why am I locked away in the cold – and why are you suddenly so warm? _What is going on_?"

"I am not warm," Loki stated, otherwise ignoring her outburst.

"But you are," she insisted. "In this place you are warmth where once your touch was freezing."

"I am not warm," he repeated and before she could interject again, he added, "You are now merely the same temperature as me."

Her mind reeled at the implications, the scenes leading up to her ending up in the frozen dreamscape playing through her mind. Loki kneeling over her as she burned before he touched her and then ice... Ice flowing through her veins and freezing the fire.

"What have you done to me?" she whispered.

Loki stiffened, pulling back away from her though he did not break his hold.

"As always, I've done what I must," he murmured.

The wind howled around them and in her fear and confusion, Bella's eyes closed once more as she clung tighter to Loki – a safe harbor in a storm of ice.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN): **Lots of questions, right? Some answers soon, not to worry... As ever, thanks for reading and if you want to review I'd love to hear from you!

Also don't forget to check-out the Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Superhero Fest hosted on my wordpress right now! Already some amazing stories submitted and I can't wait to share them with you all :)


	17. Game Changer

**(A/N): **Please see note at bottom - thanks and happy reading :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 16: Game Changer<strong>

Not fooled by the seemingly docile posture and casual pose, Thor remained vigilant even though three guards surrounded his disarmed brother. Loki was a master of illusion with not only projecting false images but crafting his face into an innocent mask that had fooled many. He'd done it harmlessly enough throughout their youth but had honed his skill with precision in their later years. There was great advantage in being underestimated – something Thor was sorely guilty of doing where was brother was concerned. He vowed never to make the mistake again.

Loosely chained and surrounded by mortal guards, Loki was the picture of subdued defeat. Thor had watched as one mortal soldier after the other questioned him but though he maintained his cowed, submissive posture, Loki did not speak and rarely acknowledge the others in the room. In fact, the only time Thor noticed a substantial reaction out of his brother was when anyone approached the unconscious maiden he so clearly coveted.

Defensiveness and possessiveness radiated in the taut lines of Loki's shoulders and the arms that he'd bring down over her prone body when any approached her, caging her under his body. The one who talked too much – Tony, and also the one with a penchant for metal armor and who had fought against Thor with misplaced righteousness – did not appear at all impressed by the protective display.

"Ease up there, Rudolph," he smarted as he sauntered up to the table, some sort of device in his hand that he slowly drew over the girl's body.

"You'd do well not to underestimate my brother," Thor cautioned, eyes still appraising Loki's lithe form. A coiled up snake, Thor thought as he took in the subtle flexing of Loki's forearms as he braced himself over the girl. His hands curled slightly around the edge of her bed and Thor had the distant thought that he was either using his grip to anchor himself in place or preparing to launch himself over the girl and bed and attack if need be.

"Please," Tony scoffed, apparently satisfied with whatever his little device had accomplished as he turned away, not even deigning to spare Loki a backward's glance as he eyed his results. "Reindeer Games over there won't make a move – he's all tuckered out."

Thor snorted. And his people thought him arrogant. "Do you treat all your enemies with such casual disregard? If so, I fear the future of Midgard. Loki holds great power and is capable of using it against anyone in this room – it is in your benefit to respect that and not underestimate him."

"Respect is earned, not given, Fabio and I've got none to spare for some punk kid who keeps pulling my girl's pigtails while out on the playground," Tony stated dismissively, plugging in some numbers into a screen as Dr. Banner came up on the other side to peer at his results.

From the corner of his eye, Thor noted as Loki eased up out of his haunched stance and turned his back on them. Subconsciously it seemed, he reached out to the girl's hand, the care with which he caressed her limp hand entirely at odds with everything he thought he knew about Loki. Perhaps he'd never known the truth of his brother at all.

Still, Thor was not fooled. Despite his apparent lack of interest in their conversation, Loki was listening to every word said and planning how to use it all to his advantage.

"I care not for the tails of pigs, metal man Tony, but you'd do well to heed my words. There is some truth to what you say but only a fool would ignore what is so clearly a threat to the safety of so many."

"Maybe we're not so sure you're not a threat too," the female warrior chimed in. Though shorter in stature, her bearing once more brought to mind the warrior Sif, causing an instant kinship to spark within Thor's breast.

"You are wise to be wary," he acknowledged. "But my quarrel is not with you. I seek to recover the tesseract before anymore harm can be done and to bring Loki to my father for Asgardian justice. Midgard is and always will be under my protection."

Her cool eyes appraised him. "We'll see about that," she dismissed his posturing. The woman struck him as made of ice but when her eyes flicked over to the maiden on the table, Thor saw her thaw with concern. A vaguely familial glint ignited in her eyes and Thor felt a surprising swell of sympathy for not only her, but the others in the room.

The unconscious maiden clearly meant a great deal to all of them – even the Dr. Banner who was distant with just about everyone else fluttering around.

Though Thor thought it peculiar when Tony had threatened Loki earlier with the quiet doctor. Initially, Loki had refused to step away from the girl at all and it was only when Dr. Banner swiped his glasses off with frustration and huffed, "You're starting to make me angry," that his brother relented.

"And you wouldn't like him when he's angry," Tony quipped. "You'd be positively green with envy at his temper tantrum."

Giving the man a deadpan look, Dr. Banner had replaced his glassed on his head and fixed Loki with an almost daring glare as he approached once more. Loki yielded, stepping aside while still maintaining contact with the woman.

What followed over the next several hours was a mad scramble that truly showed the best of humanity. Once upon a time, Thor had found the mortals of Midgard petty, cruel and weak, not all unlike how Loki looked down upon them presently, he was shamed to admit. But there was a capacity for greatness lurking within them and amidst the chaos that ensued as this unlikely band of misfits united to save one woman from vampirism, Thor saw it ignite within them.

Thor had come across such a malady in his previous visits to Midgard and had always found the vampiric creatures that scoured the mortal realm to be immature. Oft times the self-professed ancients of the species – the Volturi, he believed they called themselves – reminded him of a spoiled child that would gnaw off the hand that fed it if given the chance. They held no respect for humanity, forgetting that their own humble beginnings were rooted there. Thankfully, he had little need for dealing with them in the past though given the scene he was now witness to, he was suddenly very curious about their present doings.

As the proverbial ticking clock came closer to zero, Thor couldn't help but think of Heimdall's last words before Odin had scrambled the last vestiges of magic in their realm together to send Thor to Midgard. With every fiber of his being he hoped this woman would save his brother where Thor himself could not.

And he hoped she would not be damned for her efforts.

"I think we've run out of time, boys," the warrior woman said moving away from the corner and towards the table with Isabella.

"Natasha…?" Steve asked, standing taller as she approached the table, arms folding imposingly across his chest. Thor thought he saw a glimmer of a bittersweet fondness when the patriotic soldier glanced to the unconscious Isabella but it was gone too fast to be certain. Thor did, however, recognize the protective stance the man adopted as the woman Natasha moved closer.

"Ease up, Rogers," Natasha glared, looking mildly offended. "I'm not going to hurt her."

"Well you are Fury's go-to gal, aren't you?" Tony accused as he too moved to block her view of Isabella.

"You don't know the first thing about me, Stark," she countered coldly.

"Oh I beg to differ," he countered. "Jarvis is quite the gossip and has told me many juicy tidbits – not just about you but also about Fury's little secret action plan." He circled around the screen he'd been plugging numbers into and asked, deceptively casual like, "Just what exactly were you all really doing with the tesseract?"

"You mean they weren't trying to harvest clean, sustainable energy?" Steve asked, looking uncertain.

"Of course they weren't," Tony scoffed. "First and foremost, they're spies. Soldiers. Hardly boy scouts looking for a new source of green energy," he turned to Dr. Banner and quipped, "No offense to the big guy."

Bruce's eyes widened as he held up his hands and shook his head, moving away from the trio and the rising tension. "I'm just here to track the gamma radiation from the cube – and now to help Bella. Do not drag me into this."

"But you are in this – we all are," Tony countered. "This whole Avenger Initiative boy band group we've got going on is just another facet of Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s military schemes and they've got us playing their number one hit – don't bring a knife to a gun fight."

"Gun fight? Weapons? You think this is about weapons?" Steve frowned, arms falling to his sides.

"Ding, ding, ding – the price is right!" Tony chimed, turning around back to Bella.

"You really think…"

"Of course I do," Tony cut Steve off. "And if you weren't so distracted by our girl here, you'd be thinking it too. Doesn't matter though," he went back to work and his eyes flicked to a clock. "Jarvis will be done hacking into their mainframe any minute now and the proverbial beans will be spilled."

"You're hacking into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s systems?" Natasha asked, voice even and eyes hard as stone.

"Oh wipe that look off your face, cupcake – you know it's not the first time I've done it."

"All of that aside," Bruce broke in – and Thor thought he sounded fairly aggressive for a man who claimed to be uninvolved. "What matters right now is Agent Romanoff's initial statement. We are out of time. By our calculations, Bella's transition should be complete within the hour, give or take. Obviously we are working with some unknown variables and we are no closer to a solution, much less a cure."

Frowning, Thor interjected, "What unknown variables do you speak of? The vampires of your realm lack depth and subtlety. They should be easy…"

"But your brother did something with that staff of his," Bruce reminded. "Anyone can look at her and see she's changing – her skin is cold and hard to the touch. She's paler, certain features are more pronounced. But even still, she is not progressing like she should. Her skin isn't as cold or hard as a vampire's, Tony has been able to conclude. She's pale but still holds the peach undertone of life… Actually, if anything I'd saw she's nothing like the sheet white pallor of a vampire and actually has a tint of…"

"Blue?" Thor guessed, moving closer to the table.

Bruce took off his glasses and looked at him. "Yes, actually. Just a hint of it every now and again."

"When Loki makes skin contact with her?" Thor asked, frowning as he looked to his brother. Loki's gaze was blank, lips flat but ever so slightly tilted up at the corners. Even now, he maintained contact with Isabella but Thor was quick to note he was no longer touching her skin – when was the last time he saw his brother touch the maiden's skin?

"Well…" Bruce trailed off, frowning as he thought about it.

"He's held her hand off and on though," Steve pointed out, that edge of bitter almost-jealousy to the words. "Even if their skin hasn't come in contact recently, they've always maintained some sort of connection."

Thor's mind reeled with implications as a theory sprouted to mind. "Frost giant," he murmured.

"Who said what now?" Tony asked.

Thor ignored him and turned to his brother. "Loki, what have you done?"

Loki grinned. "You're much quicker on the uptake than you used to be – though still too late."

"Take her hand," Thor ignored the bait and pressed for an answer to his new suspicions.

"Very well," Loki said affably and he slid the hand currently curled around her forearm down until the bare tips of his fingers grazed her palm.

It was faint but instantaneous and mutual. A light blue tinge spread across Isabella's skin starting from their point of contact and an answering darker blue spreading up Loki's own arms.

"What the hell is that?" Natasha asked, moving closer. "That hasn't happened before – why the hell is it happening now?" She sounded confused and thoroughly pissed about it.

"Because it's as they've said," Thor offered. "Her time is up and the transformation is near completion."

"Transformation into what, though? Obviously she isn't a vampire – what has Loki done to her?"

Thor shook his head. "I'm uncertain of what exactly he did – magic has always been his and our mother's speciality, not mine. Even still, I've never heard of…"

"Of what? I'm getting real tired of this information tease, Fabio – spit it out already."

"Loki is my brother but not by blood. He hails from Jotunheim, the land of the frost giants. If I'm right, then he has somehow morphed the vampire's venom using his own nature. I suspect it is not a vampire we will face when she awakens but some hybrid combination of human, frost giant and vampire. The first two to be sure – the third, I'm uncertain. There's no telling if he changed the nature of the venom or sealed it with his own nature."

"And you're just now telling us this – when the overtime clock is about down, you throw a flag on the field?" Tony accused.

Thor frowned. "I've no idea of what you speak but if you are accusing me of willingly withholding information I may remind you that I arrived after these events and am only working with the information you are imparting to me now – which is not much."

"Isn't that a convenient out for you," Natasha said with a lifted brow.

"Enough," Bruce snapped and Thor swore he saw a tint of green to the mild doctor's eyes but when he blinked, it was gone. A trick of the light, perhaps. "This is helping anyone."

"Dr. Banner is right," Steve agreed. "Perhaps now would be a good time to move Bella to a safe room and…"

"You mean a cell – you want to lock her up like some sort of prisoner of war," Tony accused, eyes glittering with barely suppressed rage. The way he said it had Thor thinking perhaps there was more to the seemingly unflappable man than he first assumed.

Steve gritted his teeth and sighed, "Yes, I do. It's clear that we have no idea what we're dealing with so for our sake – and her own – I want to get Bella safely squared away before she…"

"Before I what?"

The room stilled and became unnaturally quiet. For once, not even Tony had a sarcastic quip to break the tension that seeped into the air like a gas leak waiting to ignite at the slightest static shock.

So as not to draw any unwanted attention, Thor slowly moved his hand behind him and waited. With a soft whistling thud, Mjolnir slammed into his palm and his fingers curled around the handle as though welcoming an old friend home. He did not expect to have to use it, but would if he must. There was no telling how the tense silence would shatter or if Isabella was in her right mind – not to mention if any of the others were prepared to deal with her should she not be.

Silence, taut and ready to snap should the slightest pin-prick of sound drop and then, "It's alive. IT'S ALIVE!"

Everyone turned to Tony who'd been the source of the impressive Frankenstein impersonation and glared but their attention was immediately drawn back to the table by a quiet, still somewhat weak sounding feminine giggle.

"That's better," she smiled as her eyes fell closed with a yawn. "For a second I thought you'd lost your touch, Tony."

And then seemingly without thinking, the girl lifted an arm and curled her fingers around the hand Loki still had upon her shoulder. A faint blue tinge seeped into her skin as Loki's hand turned and tightened around hers and despite not having all the answers, Thor recognized the look of a man lost to a woman.

For better or worse, he knew his brother would not be letting Isabella go and if the way she returned Loki's possessive grip was any indication, Thor suspected the maiden herself would not be relinquishing her hold anytime soon as well.

* * *

><p>Time passed like a dream she knew she was having, but was unable to wake from, not that she wanted to wake at all.<p>

"Higher Clint – higher!" a young, giggling voice cried out in glee.

"Easy there, little bird," Clint chuckled, his strong hands pushing at the base of her back. "I push you any higher and you're gonna fly off that swing!"

"You'd catch me," she said with all certainty, smiling over her shoulder at her big brother, the glint of hero worship in the corner of her eye.

"Always," he grinned, giving her another push.

Some part of her knew it was a dream – a memory – her mind had pulled forth in order to deal with the cold barren landscape her subconscious had banished her to while she went through whatever it was Loki's magic and Victoria's venom had triggered in her fragile human body. Knowing that, Bella still couldn't bring herself to care. Just the memory of her brother supporting her in all the tiny ways she'd taken for granted as a child was enough to bring her comfort and strength as she remained suspended in limbo.

"Do you think one day I really could fly?" young Bella asked as Clint obligingly pushed her higher despite his warning.

"I think you can do anything you want to, Eyas – that you have the power to do the impossible."

She giggled and then snorted. "You're such a nerd, Hawkeye," she teased, using her special name for him she'd found over the summer at their dad's house. Not long after, he'd started calling her Eyas which she always rolled her eyes at even if she secretly adored it. She loved that they had special names for each other – it made her feel like a superhero.

"You love your big brother anyway," he shot back.

Bella laughed again. "Well someone has to!"

"Ouch, Eyas! That stings!" he proclaimed through his own amusement.

"It was meant to," she airily retorted.

He pushed her higher yet. "You're getting a little too quick with the comebacks, Bella – does me proud." Clint pretended to sniffle and wipe away tears of joy.

"I did learn from the best," she smiled over her shoulder again.

"And now you're sucking up – what do ya want, squirt?"

"Just your undying servitude, slave!"

"Oh is that all?!"

"Clint – you're such a dork but I love you anyway."

He laughed. "Well it's as you said, right? Someone has to love me – might as well be you."

"Also Lisa Thomas who lives across the street," Bella singsonged with a mischievous grin.

Clint's hands fell away as though burned and he jogged around to the front of the swing set. "What? What do you mean? Did she say something to you about me? What did she say?" spilled out in a rush, his eyes wide and eager.

Bella broke into a sputter of giggles. "Oh my God – your face!"

"Hardy har har," he deadpanned but with a small smile that let her know he was taking her teasing in good sport.

Her legs kept pumping as she leaned back for more momentum. "And just what would you do with Lisa if she did like you, hm?"

"I'd carry her books at school and take her out for ice cream on the weekends. After our dates, I'd give her a nice hearty handshake after walking her home," he stated.

"Lame! You're just saying that! I know you want to kiiiisssss her!"

"Boys don't go around kissing girls, Eyas," Clint scoffed, then got a peculiar glint in his eyes as he added, "And if any of the boys around try to tell you otherwise you come tell your big brother and I'll set them straight, yeah?"

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "I'm only nine, Clint."

"You won't be forever, kiddo," he countered softly.

"Shut up!" she gasped, breaking the moment.

"As if!" he returned in his best valley girl voice, his smirk widening into a grin when she let out another peel of giggles. "Now hop on down and I'll catch you, baby hawk."

He held his arms out in open invitation and there was no hesitation. When the swing hit its peak height she pushed off the seat with a rattle of chains and sailed through the air to her brother, knowing without a doubt he'd catch her. He always did.

Arms closed securely around her and the scene melted away into cold winds and greying light.

"This again?" Loki's voice taunted.

Within the circle of his arms, Bella tilted her head up, not at all surprised that the memory of Clint had melted away and Loki had caught and held fast to her now. A pang ached in her heart at the loss of her brother, even if it'd been nothing more than a fantasy memory.

"Don't pretend you're not jealous," she glared up at him.

He lifted a condescending brow. "Jealous? Whatever of, little siren? I not only have your brother – I also have you."

His arms tightened meaningfully around her.

Instead of pulling away in a huff, Bella maintained her confident posture and tilted her head back in faux bravado while claiming, "You're jealous because my brother loves me more than yours will ever love you."

"You think you're so clever – think you've got me figured out, little human?"

"I think," she began, a little more uncertain as she became increasingly aware of his body lightly grazing hers. "That I know you better than you care to admit and that scares you."

He gave a light, scornful laugh. Tilting his head down, she felt the ends of his hair tickle her cheeks. Bella shivered.

"By the end of this night, little siren," he murmured, his breath puffing gently across her skin. "We will each know the truth of the other and your friends will learn the truth of you."

"Just what exactly are you insinuating?" she breathed, fighting the urge to lick her lips as she craned her head back even further to meet his eyes.

While she'd always known they were inexplicably bound to one another, the sudden intimacy between them had her body clenching and heart racing. For weeks they'd fallen into the other's dreams and reality, both unable to resist the call that pulled them together through time and space. To whatever end, their connection was real – a solid, unbreakable force that had nearly tore her heart out of her chest once they'd met in person only to be separated. Nothing about it made sense but it was an immutable truth between them, one that she'd struggled with accepting.

Looking at Loki had been like looking into the depths of her own sorrow. Truth was, she related to him far more than she was comfortable with. Part of her wanted to claim his recent actions as the byproduct of being driven temporarily mad by his grief and what he saw as betrayal, but the platitude rang hollow even in the safety of her own mind.

In fact, that was what truly disturbed her so about Loki; it wasn't that his actions alone were appalling, it was that a part of her understood them, envied them almost. They couldn't be reasoned away with a temporary insanity plea. Loki was clever, devious and more than ruthless when he set his mind to something. He would take any means necessary to achieve his goals, both the high and honorable roads and the dark seedy alleyways. Nothing was off limits to him. She looked at him and saw a man unhindered by a conscience or one that was easy enough to silence, and damned if that didn't make her feel envious and terrible for being so.

Damned if a part of her wasn't attracted to him for it.

"You love your brother, do you not?" Loki asked out of nowhere.

Bella felt the urge to roll her eyes and mutter 'duh.' She refrained and answered isntead, "Of course, I do."

"You would do anything for him? Anything to get him back?"

Unease danced down her spine, but her response was fast and true, "Yes, of course I would."

In the back of her mind, Clint's voice howled at her to stop – to think rationally about the power her confession was giving him – but she ignored him, her conscience, and focused only on her own wants and desires. Perhaps she was more like Loki than she'd even thought.

"What if I were to release him, little siren? Set him free of the mind compulsion and release him back unto your merry little band of friends…"

Her heart yearned for just that even though she knew it would come at a price. Some sort of spiritual connection or no, Loki did nothing unless he stood to gain something. Only question was, what would he gain from releasing Clint?

He leaned further down and brought his lips to her ear and started whispering. Slowly, his words seeped into her, each poisoned promise planting seeds of hope that she knew would sprout into weeds. A serpent's tongue, she thought as he finished his proposition and pulled back to stare down at her, cold eyes glittering in victory as he already knew what she would say. Loki possessed a serpent's tongue that had well and truly damned her.

"Yes," she said hoarsely, tears filling her eyes as again, Clint started protesting in her mind. "Yes, I agree to your terms – just let him go."

Loki brought a chilled hand up to her cheek and swept away a rogue tear that had escaped. He frowned for a moment, conflicted as he studied her heartbroken expression. Shaking whatever it was off, he leaned down towards her once more. Despite his cold touch, fire sparked where they met and ignited even further when he brought his head down to hers and sealed their bargain with his lips.

Unbidden, she responded, her body pressing further into him as her lips parted under his own. Kissing Loki was like taking a sip of a thick milkshake, cold and undeniably worth the effort. His lips were two ice chips against her own and still she thawed against him, letting out a small sigh of want; only Loki's ice could set her aflame. She shivered and was oddly grateful when his arms tightened, grounding her to him.

The moment seemed to hang suspended in time. Though it was almost conceited to think so, Bella felt like someone watching a movie who recognized the turning point of the plot. A game changer move, she thought; everything was changed now. Better or worse – ? She'd find out with the rest of the audience.

When he pulled back slightly, Bella looked up into his eyes and was struck by the truth: the devil hadn't risen up from below to claim her but had fallen from worlds high above and frozen love into her unwilling heart.

A game changer, she thought once more, her hands trailing up Loki's arms. The game was entirely different now and she was going to play to win.

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><p><strong>(AN):** Hiya and thanks for your patience and understanding with the delay. If you sent me a PM, I'm sorry if I didn't get back to you - I had a few and then was sick so I figured I'd just focus on finishing the chapter instead of replying to each individual person. Hope it was worth the wait and you enjoyed it.

And yes… you will find out soon just what it was Loki whispered to our girl :) Next chapter will start even more action as Loki adjusts his schemes and we start to really veer away from the movie plot. Hope you're as excited as I am!

Before I forget, this story and many others are up for some awards at the **Fanatic Fanfics Multifandom Awards**... The link to it is on my wordpress which is linked on my profile so if you get a chance, please visit and cast your votes. Thanks to all who have already participated!

Until next time!


	18. Promises to Keep

**(A/N):** Thanks for your patience! Hope you enjoy...

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><p><strong>Chapter 17: Promises to Keep<strong>

The low hum of the light in her room comforted Bella as she perched on the end of her bed, waiting.

Not long after they'd established she was well and truly not going to eat anyone, they'd also learned that she could at last be separated from Loki without any notable pain. Wasting no time, Fury had ordered Loki's immediate incarceration, hauling him off while his one eye looked her up and down in calculation.

For his part, Loki had allowed Fury's men to march him off, a small indulgent smile quirking his lips as he sent her one last part looking filled with a silent, mocking laugh of an inside joke. It made her want to slap him.

Then maybe kiss him.

Thinking of their one and only ill-begotten kiss had her lips tingling. Though it'd been nothing more than a dream really, the imprint of his lips remained like an aftertaste of icy peppermint leaving her equally refreshed and yearning for more.

Shaking those traitorous thoughts off, Bella turned her mind to safer avenues.

Tony and Bruce had fussed over her like mother hens clucking in amazement at what each new scan of theirs revealed. It wasn't that she was unappreciative of what they were doing for her, but Bella was entirely underwhelmed by the fact that her DNA had somehow been altered. Frost giant, vampire, human... it all amounted to the same thing in her book. A freak of nature that rightfully shouldn't exist but somehow did. When it came down to it, she was resolved to learn each new facet of her nature as it was uncovered but was ultimately just relieved she would not be going on some sort of blood drinking binge.

Perhaps sensing her stress and exhaustion, Natasha had whisked her away to a room for some rest as Tony and Bruce remained in the lab to further analyze each facet of their scans without an audience. Despite her tiredness, a corner of Bella's mind was amused by the two of them geeking out together like a couple of science nerds starting a bromance. She was happy Bruce seemed slightly less of an outsider too but also unsurprised that Tony was forcing the quiet and cautious man to get involved. Tony had an affinity for drawing out the socially awkward, she thought fondly.

"Thanks Tasha," Bella had smiled once they'd reached her room.

Natasha stared at her for a long moment. "When you're ready to talk about what's bothering you, come and find me," she ordered, not unkindly.

She really was too observant for Bella's own good.

Not bothering to give white lies, she simply promised, "I will."

Nodding, Natasha ran an affectionate hand down her arm and gave her a small smile. Simultaneous guilt and comfort washed over her at the fond gesture and she stared at Natasha's back as the woman walked away, hoping she would forgive her when all was said and done; hoping she'd be able to forgive herself for being so selfish.

Clint would be a lost cause – that boy could hold a grudge until the end of days when he wanted – but her brother was right pigheaded about his opinions regarding her safety. She knew the issue with him would be about her safety and her choice to put his welfare above her own. Damn hypocrite thought it was entirely fine for him to put her safety and wellbeing above his own but heaven forbid she return the favor, she thought with sad fondness. When she eventually had to explain her actions to him she'd just remind him that she'd inherited her self-sacrificing from him so he could just shut his face, thank you very much.

Not that that'd stop him from lecturing her. Right up until the day Loki had taken him Clint still reminded her of the time she'd ignored his warning and had tried to learn how to skateboard. As often as he teased her about her clumsiness he would go into a right foul mood when she knowingly endangered herself. She'd been seven at the time and thought she was invincible. In the end, her sprained wrist had healed fast enough, sure, but Clint's 'I told you' so and constant lording it over her head was forever.

That instance had been nothing in the grand scheme of things, really. She couldn't imagine what he was going to do when he learned of her newest brilliant plan.

Sighing, Bella glanced at the clock on the wall and continued to wait. It wouldn't be long and despite her soul deep weariness, a slow hum of energy was buzzing along her arms and tickling her mind. She wondered if it was her new nature keeping her awake or just the fact she'd been unconscious for three days and was just too wired for sleep. Either way, when she blinked and glanced at the clock again, she wasn't all too surprised too see that two hours had gone by.

The abrupt knock to her door, however, was surprising.

Frowning, she called out a polite, "Come in," and was only half-surprised to see Thor's wide-shouldered silhouette darkening her doorframe.

Smiling in welcome, Bella said again, "Come in," when he hovered at the entrance like an awkward doorman, his blue eyes scanning over her curiously.

"Forgive my intrusion," he began, stepping into her room and closing the door behind him. "I realize the hour is late."

The soft glow of the lamp made him look even more imposing if that was possible, highlighting his muscled frame and making him appear taller and wider. He filled the room like someone trying to cram ten pairs of shoes into one shoebox. He avoided looking directly at her at first, gazing around her room in a gesture she recognized as stalling. Still, she was aware of him glancing at her appraisingly from the corner of his eye. It made her smother a smile.

"You're welcome to visit," she finally responded. "I can't seem to sleep and am grateful for some company. We didn't really get the chance to introduce ourselves."

Giving up pretenses, Thor brought the weight of his blue-eyed gaze solely upon her. He was rather handsome, she decided, in a classic romance novel cover sort of way. While she could appreciate the golden good looks he was blessed with – and blessed he most certainly was – she was underwhelmed by the pretty package. Beautiful he certainly was, but she beheld him like one would take in a painting at a museum. Admiring for sure but no substantial attraction.

A part of her had wondered, what with given her connection to his brother. With Thor, though, Bella felt her usual curious and friendly self. Refusing to analyze the relief trickling through her at the realization, Bella shook her head softly and smiled up at Thor in welcome again.

"You look as though you've been expecting me," he noted, folding his large frame to sit on a chair a respectable distance away from her bed.

She hadn't realized it until he'd said the words, but she rather had been expecting him.

"You're Loki's brother," she said by way of explanation. "And I'm sure you're curious, not to mention concerned."

"Concerned?" Thor raised his brows. "For the man who has betrayed his family and people, bringing war upon those who are innocent merely for the sake of his pride?"

Smiling at the defensive tone and thinking he sounded a bit like the mad man he was describing, Bella said, "That man, yes. The one you still love as your brother and probably will no matter what atrocities he will commit. The one I'm sure you're still hoping to redeem and save."

Thor eyed her calculatingly though not unfriendly. "You speak as if you know me well."

"Well, I know of you, of course. From not only myths but Loki really likes to trash talk you," she gave a friendly laugh when his eyebrows shot up at her blunt statement. "But I'm also capable of reading between the anger and hurt he uses to slander you," she continued. "So while I wouldn't presume to know you, of course, I suppose I know enough to not suspect you to come calling at this hour hoping to accomplish anything but get some honest answers."

"For a woman so close to my brother you are an oddly trusting sort, especially as I know he holds me in great contempt," he said dryly.

Despite the humor, she could sense the same underlying hurt in his words that often tainted Loki's venomous rants about him.

"Loki loves you Thor," she whispered, not looking away when his heated gaze flashed to her. "If he didn't then he wouldn't be so adamant about hating you. He wouldn't be lashing out at this world – the world he thinks you covet more than him – in order to hurt you." She paused and smiled gently, confessing, "We always hurt the ones we love the most, be it on purpose or on accident."

He looked away after she finished talking, eyes gleaming suspiciously. She allowed him the moment to compose himself, knowing that he had taken her words to heart and didn't know her well enough to express the emotions her insight had ignited.

"You must know my brother very well," Thor said lowly, his voice thick with emotion. "I've heard briefly of your history with him but will you tell me yourself how it was you two came to be?"

Smiling again and doing him the favor of allowing his emotional moment to pass without comment, Bella recounted the weeks she'd dreamt of Loki. She told him how she'd been hovering on the edge of his consciousness as he'd fallen through the void of space after he'd slipped from the Bifrost and how at first they'd both attributed the vision of the other to hallucinations. Eventually they'd acknowledged the truth of the other even as Loki so obviously resented her uninvited presence.

"He's kind of a dick, y'know?" she wryly said, laughing when Thor sputtered a shocked laugh at her apt description. "But," she continued softly, her smile turning small and sad. "We have more in common than we both would like to admit, I suspect. I suppose I can relate to how he feels – abandoned, forsaken..." she trailed off quietly, her mind flickering to the Cullens, Victoria and her parents.

Clearing her throat, she forced those tangled thoughts away and said, "It's why we always end up arguing more often than not. Neither is willing to back down from our perspective. There's no compromising with him and whatever decision he makes has to be on his own terms."

"You know my brother very well," he reiterated with a commiserating grin.

Returning the wry smile, she continued to explain the pull she'd started feeling in her waking hours and the utter pain that'd ripped through her when they'd finally met only to be separated. She even confessed to feeling the connection still, his presence like a splinter embedded into her heart – healed, but with the splinter sealed within her, now a part of her in every way.

When the last word fell from her lips and hovered between them for a moment, Thor finally spoke.

"What you speak of," he began, tone thoughtful and confused. "It sounds very much like a Soul Bond."

Keeping her face carefully blank, she asked, "A what?"

"It is a union between souls," he said, then offered, "I believe the term you use here is marriage. A union between two people, joining them forever. Though a Soul Bond seals the union with magic and is a more literal union; an unbreakable vow once pledged. But I am confused," he frowned, tilting his head as he studied her. "A bond like you describe cannot happen subconsciously – it is far too powerful and frankly has fallen to disuse given its permanence. It has to be instigated consciously and agreed upon willingly. I am not as familiar with magic as Loki and our mother, but though I know it to be sentient, it is impossible for him to form a bond on his own side without conscious knowledge of it."

"So someone – or something – created the bond that brought us together? That started the dreams?"

"Yes, there had to have been a catalyst for the connection. And even so, the connection should have dissipated without the acknowledged consent of both parties involved. It cannot be sustained otherwise."

"Hm-m," she hummed noncommittally.

Eyes narrowing at her as he took in her distraction, Thor studied her carefully. "Isabella?"

"Loki is not the type to instigate such a bond," she pointed out the obvious.

At her evasion, Thor eyed her even more closely. "That he is not. But he would've recognized it for what it was at some point early on, clever as he is. Perhaps not a first since it was not of his own making but he knows more of magical bonds than I. If I have made this leap, I am certain he has too and that it was some time ago."

"Hm-m," she murmured again, her hand distractedly lifting to her heart and rubbing. There was an underlying amusement throughout the entire conversation, an emotion she knew not to be her own.

The silent amusement trebled when she acknowledged it and her eyes narrowed.

"Isabella?" Thor prompted again. "Has Loki made mention of such a connection to you?" he paused and eyed the hand at her heart with even greater suspicion. "Have you entered and sealed such a bond willingly?" he asked, an edge of urgency to it.

Glancing at him, she quickly looked away.

_Lie_, a voice slipped into her mind, a sibilant whisper of a command.

_I'm a terrible liar_, she thought as her cheeks already heated up in a blush that would tip their hand.

_Remember your vow. Lie_, the voice urged again.

_Damn you, Loki_, she thought back at him, knowing he was taking great amusement at her distress.

_Yes, I have damned you_, Loki's voice whispered to her in dark satisfaction. She shivered, hearing him in her mind and heart as surely as if he was standing behind her leaning down and breathing his velvet words into her ear. She hated the way his voice flowed over her like a satin sheet caressing her naked skin. Hated how she desired the feel of it and how it left her hungry for more.

Giving herself a bracing mental shake, Bella glanced at Thor, positive he could already read the lie in her eyes as she opened her mouth to speak and...

The helicarrier gave a jarring rumble, the distant sound of an explosion vibrating the walls as Bella tumbled forwards towards the ground.

Thor caught her with ease, hauling her up to her feet and bracing her against him as he tilted his head to the door, frowning.

_Saved by the explosion_, she thought wryly.

"What is this – what is going on?" Thor asked.

There was another booming roar, the sound of metal and plastic crackling as the sparse items in her room flew to the ground, glass shattering. The lights flickered and in the next instant, an alarm sounded.

"Attack," Bella mumbled, gripping Thor's forearms as the helicarrier jolted again. "We must be under attack."

The sounds of shouting and harried footsteps as people jolted into action passed her door sounded.

"Stay here," Thor ordered, his tone brooking no refusal. "Take cover."

_Screw that noise_, she internally balked. While talking to Thor had been comfortable and she already felt a sort of kinship to him considering his reluctance to doom his brother no matter what crimes he'd committed, it was all too clear that he knew nothing about her.

"No," she defied him. "I may not have had much training but I can help."

"Isabella," he frowned, her name sounding like a distant rumble of thunder across his lips. Clearly he did not appreciate being back talked.

_STAY WHERE YOU ARE!_ Loki's voice crashed into her mind with a sudden ferocity that brought her to her knees.

Wincing, she brought her hands up to her head with a hiss, vaguely thankful there'd been another crash against the helicarrier to cover her abrupt collapse.

"Son of a bitch," she grunted, knowing she'd have to stay where she was for the time being.

Thor caught her up and moved her to a corner of the room where she could brace herself against the sudden and random abrupt crashes. "Stay here," he said through tightly pressed lips. "If not for yourself, then for the others. Do not forget the ordeal and strain your body has recently sustained. I commend you for your bravery but you are not fit for battle, young warrior maiden."

"Please," she gasped, frowning as she felt Loki's presence in her head as though he was looming over her with a glare, daring her to defy him. Her hands snaked out to grip Thor's forearms, desperately tightening on them as if to imprint her words upon him. "Please help the others – help my brother if you find him. Please."

Thor's stance softened at her pleading. "I give you my word," he said solemnly.

Placing his hand on her shoulder he squeezed once in reassurance before he whirled around and left her there without a glance back.

Giving herself a mental shake, she eased slightly as Loki's overbearing presence in her mind lifted slightly, apparently reassured she would not be entering the foray.

"I'll remember my vow," she said lowly, speaking to him as though he was but mere inches away from her and not just a casual resident in her mind. "But you better make damn sure you remember yours."

A wave of amusement hit her but underneath that there was a tenor of acceptance. He would honor their agreement to the letter... she just had to hope she'd read all the fine print right and he hadn't managed to sneak in some hidden clause.

The next moments passed like molasses dripping off a tree branch. Time crawled and was measured by the shouts of those running passed her room and the random crashes hitting the helicarrier. Worry plagued her mind as she wondered how much damage they could sustain before they inevitably took a large enough hit in just the right area that would take out an engine and send them hurtling to the ground.

But all of that worry and the battle ruckus seemed to fade away as she heard a faint but impressive roar.

It was a roar she recognized and had her heart freezing in fear. When she'd first been brought to the helicarrier and Fury's plan was roughly sketched out to her, she'd made it a point to access the files for the so-called Avengers Initiative. There wasn't much she'd had access to, but then in a particularly devious move, she'd texted Tony.

She knew he was busy doing his own crash course and making plans. He'd been quick to reach out to her when he'd first learned of Clint; quick to reassure her that he was on the case and had her back. Eventually he'd make a grand appearance and she'd see him again and that thought had been very comforting. As much as she'd come to care for al of Clint's co-workers, it was Tony who lightened her heart the most. Even knowing their differences, she recognized they were still very much the same and she was therefore not alone.

So when she had the distinct impression there was more to this whole Avenger Initiative thing than what Fury was telling her, she texted Tony asking for his help. He'd replied in less than a minute, eager and entirely too supportive of her breaking the rules. Following his instructions to the letter, she'd gone to the nearest computer and had plugged her phone into it with a random USB cable she'd managed to find.

Having no clue what he was going to do, she'd startled when her phone's screened brightened to life. The computer's screen simultaneously flickered until a HTML dialogue box opened and what looked like mumble-jumble appeared along the cursor's path. While her computer skills were terribly rusty, Bella couldn't help but smirk as she recognized what Tony was doing even if she didn't know how he was doing it.

Using her phone, he'd somehow opened a backdoor into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s system and was sifting through files until he found what she needed.

It took all of five minutes until the flowing codes stopped and a classified folder appeared on her screen.

Her phone chimed with a text message.

Smiling, she read, _No need to thank me, you little browncoat you_.

Rolling her eyes, she'd replied, _Hack the planet, Tony_.

She had a feeling _Hackers_ was his kind of movie.

From there, she'd read everything she could about the Avenger Initiative. She was surprised to see her name amongst the others but hadn't the inclination to open that Pandora's box so she ignored her file for the moment.

It was Bruce's file she was most intrigued by. His mild mannered demeanor so at odds with the rage and fury of the Hulk. It was fascinating even though her heart sympathized with the poor man. To carry around that kind of anger at all times – to walk around like a nuclear warhead armed and ready to go – it was no small burden.

Unstable, his file read. The Hulk could not be contained even though his presence among the other candidates was a clear indication that they wanted to contain him. Control him.

When she'd seen the video file, she'd hesitated a moment before clicking and watching as a massive green beast bounded off a building, swatting at bullets fired at him like mere flies. In his annoyance and anger, his lip had curled back in a snarl and a roar of rage released that had her heart hammering nervously even though it was just a video clip.

It was the same roar she had just heard – faint, but lacking the watered-down consistency of a computer audio file.

The Hulk had been unleashed.

"Oh no," she murmured, rising to her feet.

Vow or not, she couldn't hide away in her room any longer. She had to try and help her friends.

Bolting to the door, she threw it open and charged out only to take two steps and run smack into a broad chest.

The chest moved forward and ushered her back into her room, slamming and locking the door behind him. Once she'd caught her breath from the impact, Bella looked up and her eyes widened.

"Clint?" she breathed, afraid to hope that her big brother had finally come to his senses and was there to help her.

His head cocked down at her, the ice blue veil of Loki's spell still clouding his eyes. Disappointment crashed into her as she backed up a step, studying him in caution.

"Ah," he mumbled. "There you are."

And before she could react, his hand had flashed out and his fingers curled around her throat. Hauling her up, he casually tossed her across the room, her head hitting a nearby wall with a nasty crack.

Groaning, tears pricked her eyes, not entirely from the pain of impact. "Please Clint, don't do this," she wheezed, scrambling to her feet as she tried to dodge his searching fists again.

In the corner of her mind, a concern bloomed and spread over her like a cup of warm water thawing her out from the inside. Loki was aware of Clint's appearance and it was clearly not part of his plan.

Distracted by Loki's emotions, she didn't dodge fast enough and Clint's fist caught her along her chin.

"No," she gasped, her desperate eyes boring into his vacant stare as she searched for some vague sign of her brother. "Clint – you're stronger than this. Don't let whatever this is control you."

His hand twitched a moment but then snaked out and caught her up by the throat, squeezing painfully.

"Please Clint," she forced out as his grip tightened.

"He doesn't want you around," Clint intoned. "You are interfering with his plans."

Loki's confusion and urgency flooded her and she knew without a doubt that Loki wasn't who Clint was referring to.

Prying at his fingers, she managed to wheeze out around a gurgled sob, "Clinton Swan – you are stronger than this. It's me... it's your Eyas. Please..."

A kaleidoscope of black dots tainted her vision. She fought against the darkness coming to claim her, her eyes piercing her brother's cold stare. She could no longer speak but she used her eyes to tell him – order him – to fight against whatever was making him do this. Her eyes told him she loved him, no matter what, and that together there was nothing they couldn't overcome.

Her limbs went limp as Clint maintained his strangle hold and she heard Loki's cry of rage grow faint, like their connection thinning, causing a well of fear to bottom out her stomach.

Clint's gaze flickered, his fingers loosening a fraction. Sensing a toehold of awareness, Bella's hands tightened around Clint's as she sucked in a breath of air.

The cloud of ice started to bloom in his gaze again so she steeled herself. Gritting her teeth, a sudden burst of strength filled her and despite his hold, Bella surged to her feet. Knocking his arms back, she gave him a swift kick in the gut that had him hurdling into a wall on the opposite side of the room, crashing through a table with unnatural speed and force.

Gasping for air, she stared at her hands – hands that had committed an act humanly impossible – as though they belonged to a stranger.

"Where the hell did that come from?" she mumbled to herself.

But her mind was already working out an answer to that.

Frost giant, vampire, human... she was a bit of all three apparently and who knew what she could do now.

Fearful and confused thoughts halted when she heard Clint's groan of pain and she dropped her hands to her side while rushing over to him.

"Clint? Clint? Are you okay? I'm sorry – I swear I didn't mean to hurt you!" she stumbled over her words, horrified to see the remnants of the table smothered underneath him.

"That's gonna hurt in the morning," he coughed, rolling over onto his hands and knees.

Hearing the familiar tone in his voice, Bella's heart froze – almost afraid to hope. "Hawkeye?" she whispered, her hand hovering over his shoulder wanting to touch him but afraid to. "Is it really you now?"

"Eyas," he groaned, flipping over to look at her.

Her heart started racing when she saw the clear blue of his natural gaze.

"Clint," she sobbed, the days of his absence crashing through her as she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms and legs around him as she cried into his shoulder.

"Ow," he mumbled with a small chuckle. "Sh-h, c'mon now. It's okay – I got you, little bird."

The familiar, soothing words had her crying even harder. She'd tried so hard to be strong and patient, but a part of her had already accepted that she'd never have her brother back no matter how hard she fought for him. A part of her had already curled and shriveled up in defeat, thinking Clint lost to them all for good.

Shame welled up, a lump in her throat she choked around her tears. It had been a small, insecure part of her that had given up. The part of her that still carried the pain from the Cullens abandonment and the loss of her parents like raw, weeping wound that refused to heal. In her mind, though, it didn't matter how small that part of herself had been. A part of her had surrendered and she was ashamed of herself for it.

Clint never would've entertained such thoughts of defeat had it been the other way around which was exactly why she'd made her vow to Loki. Her brother would find her again; wouldn't rest until he did so – she was sure of it.

Slowly her tears abated and she simply basked in the feel of Clint's hug, feeling like she was whole again.

He pulled back from her slightly, frowning as he took in the red welts around her neck. They weren't as bad as they should've been but the sight of them there, knowing it had been his own hands that had left them, had him swallowing compulsively. "Jesus, Eyas. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he murmured and she was horrified to see his eyes welling up.

"Shut up, you idiot," she smiled reassuringly through her tears. "It wasn't you – not really."

"Eyas," he began again but cut off as the locked door slammed open, splintering against the wall behind it.

Clint tightened his hands on her, sitting up and quickly placing himself in a defensive position in front of her.

Bella clutched at his back, not in fear, but with regret, knowing who it was that had come upon them. She'd just got her brother back and she was going to have to leave him again.

"Well, well," Loki taunted, each booted step as he entered the room sounding unnaturally loud. "Isn't this a touching reunion."

Clint stiffened, his arms locking like a vice around her when she went to move beside him.

Glaring at Loki, she hissed, "What the hell are you playing at, Loki – the Hulk? Really?"

A vain smirk curled his lips upwards as he leaned towards her conspiratorially. "Now that was a clever bit on my part, you must admit."

"Have you lost your mind?" she surged to her feet, breaking Clint's hold as easily as if she'd been wrapped up in silly string.

"Eyas?" Clint gasped in shock at her strength.

She ignored him and marched straight up to Loki, jabbing her index finger into his chest. "You swore to me, Loki. Have you forgotten our deal already?"

In a flash, Loki wrapped his cold hands around her wrists, pinning her hands between them as he pulled her to him, one hand slithering to the small of her back and trapping her in his hold.

Her breath caught as she felt the hard line of his body against hers, thawing her even as she shivered at the chill of his embrace. Her wrists began to tingle in his hold and she broke his heated gaze to stare at where he held them, watching curiously as his skin tinted blue where it met hers. The color spread out from where they touched and she was spellbound by how the blue-kissed snow swept across her own skin.

"I have forgotten nothing, little siren," he breathed down at her, dropping his his head so that the words kissed her forehead.

"Eyas?" Clint's confused and concerned call broke the spell that had fallen over them.

In a telling move, Loki pulled her to his side before sidling ever so slightly in front of her. He stared Clint down, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully.

"Eyas," Clint frowned. Bella pressed her lips together, remaining stubbornly silent. The horror of realization begin to dawn across her brother's face and her lip quivered precariously. "Isabella, what have you done?"

Before she could react, Loki swept forward, his hand curling around Clint's shirt, lifting him up in the air as if he weighed nothing.

"I believe the question here is what have _you_ done?" Loki hissed, eyes roving along Clint's face as he studied him. "You should not have been drawn to attack her – why did you?"

Bella's heart tightened as she stepped closer to the two but wisely hovered just behind Loki. Her heart yearned to intervene but logic stayed her hand. The two of them were quite volatile and in all probability she'd make things worse.

"I – he told me to," Clint stuttered, looking like a confused, lost little boy. She'd never seen her brother look so young before. Young and vulnerable.

Loki's back stiffened. "Who told you to?" he bit out, giving Clint a violent shake that had Bella's breath hiccuping.

The helicarrier thudded with another explosion and the three of them faltered before bracing themselves as they started pulling to the right... An engine had blown.

"WHO?!" Loki thundered, shaking Clint again.

"The giant purple monkey looking dude," Clint bit off, glaring at Loki.

Bella watched as Loki's eyes widened in recognition before they narrowed, a cold fury igniting behind them.

Without a pause, he lifted his ill-begotten scepter and brought it to Clint's chest.

"No!" she gasped, rushing forward and pulling uselessly at his arm. "You promised me, Loki – you swore you'd set him free if I agreed. You can't, you can't do this!" she ranted and sobbed.

Glaring at her pathetic attempt to pull him away from her brother, Loki hissed, "Don't be a fool, Isabella. You may have knocked him out of the mindspell but it is still within him. Do you want me to remove it or not?"

Her hands fell to her sides as though burned. She watched silently as the tip of the spear rested against Clint's heart and a blue light swirled out from Clint and traveled back into the scepter.

Her eyes caught Clint's, relief and exhaustion marring her small, relieved smile.

"You brave little fool," Clint muttered in realization, shaking his head at her, eyes both begging and demanding that she tell him it wasn't true.

Her eyes fell to the floor in admittance. He knew her better than anyone, maybe even better than she knew herself. She wasn't surprised he'd realized she'd made some sort of deal with Loki for his safety.

"I love you, big brother," she whispered, turning her head away as Loki brought the blunt end of his scepter down to Clint's right temple, his body collapsing like a sack of bricks.

She brought a shaky hand to her lips. Fine, she reassured herself. Clint would be fine now.

"Isabella?" Loki prompted in a quiet murmur.

Glancing up from Clint's unconscious form, her eyes caught on Loki. She was surprised by his quiet tone and neutral but soft expression.

He extended his hand out to her.

"Come," he said. "It's time to leave."

Glancing at Clint again, Bella steeled herself.

_It was worth it_, she said over and over again in her mind. She would do anything to set her brother free...

Even chain herself to the man that had imprisoned him.

Slipping her hand into Loki's, she allowed him to pull her out of the room, the blue tint sparked from their grasp traveling up both of their arms as she spared one last, yearning glance back at her brother.

* * *

><p><strong>(AN):** As ever, thank you so much for reading and patience in waiting for this chapter. I will be trying to update more regularly but please understand that this is a hobby and I have real life obligations that take precedence over fanfiction. That being said, I will try my hardest to never leave you hanging for so long again 3

Thanks for reading and if you so wish to review, I'd love to hear what you though!


	19. He Who Fights and Runs Away

Chapter 18: He Who Fights and Runs Away

They sat around the table, the air so thick with defeat that Natasha felt it clawing up her back and haunching down onto her shoulders, pressing her even further into her chair. The urge to let that monkey on her back sink her down into the chair and just melt away from the situation all together was strong but simply not in her nature. Despite the overwhelming sense of failure branded into her heart, she sat with her spine stiff and shoulders back while listening to the heavy silence hanging taut in the air. It was broken occasionally only by the sound of personnel running passed the room, seeing to the necessity of keeping the helicarrier in the air while those around her wallowed in the aftermath of being so completely outwitted.

Though it was more than just defeat she was witnessing around her, she acknowledged, her cool eyes sweeping over the lot of them. Tony was cut to hell, covered in dirt and grime as he slouched in a chair spun away from the table. His usual sharp and witty gaze was downtrodden and shell-shocked as he stared out the window – though Natasha detected the faint flickering of anger beginning to simmer. Steve looked about the same but the defeat she sensed in him was tempered by a soldier's acceptance. The man clearly hated the outcome of recent events, but viewed them with the strategical eye of the man who had led the Howling Commandos back in WWII. No matter the denial in his heart to wish otherwise, the Captain simply knew defeat was statistically unavoidable in battle.

But for it to happen in this battle... this battle where the one person they had universally accepted as their own had been at stake...

The recent loss was gutting in a way none of them had ever experienced and Natasha couldn't help but wonder. If they were suffering it this bad then Clint... She shook the thought away, unwilling to contemplate it. The aftermath of defeat was a bitter pill to swallow, like a swift kick in the gut when they were already down. They had just experienced something larger than defeat, she knew – they'd been broken; shattered.

"Agent Romanoff – report."

The command slipped over her like an old friend, allowing her to push back her emotions and focus. She half-suspected Fury had done it on purpose.

"Front starboard engine and back port engine are operating at eighty-seven and ninety-three percent. The other port engine is dead while the fourth remaining is at twelve percent. We'll stay in the air well enough, but we're limping. Crew is working on restoring the remaining engines if possible."

"Banner?"

Natasha shuddered. She'll never forget the roar of the Hulk once he'd been unleashed. The chilling green fury she'd faced while trying to subdue him. As if one can soothe a savage beast incapable of reason and understanding.

Shaking it off, she answered, "Gone. He plummeted off the carrier when trying to attack the jets shooting at him – I doubt we'll see him again."

Tony scoffed, but remained silent.

Ignoring him, Natasha anticipated Fury's next question and said, "Thor took to the air, trying to track Loki's jet. Given the lead Loki had and recent events, I doubt he'll be successful."

"The scepter?"

Gritting her teeth, Natasha cast her eyes to the floor. "Loki has it. When the attack began, Coulson anticipated that would be Loki's first destination and attempted to intercept him. He was gravely injured in the encounter."

The tension in the room ramped up a notch – none of them had heard yet whether Phil had survived the mortal blow Loki had served. An invisible fist squeezing the air out of them all until Fury said, "Agent Coulson is in critical condition but he's stable. For now."

The fist loosened and all of them could breathe again.

"So what I'm hearing is basically we're fucked six ways 'til Sunday," Fury added, moving further into the room to stare out a window.

Natasha swallowed, relief burning through her at the news about Phil even as the futility of their situation rose up to meet it. "It would appear so."

"What of Barton?" Fury asked, turning around to face her. It was the first time during the conversation that his steely eye fixed on her and Natasha fought the urge to look away like a guilty child. Her report was filled with statements of their losses – of all of their failures – and it left her feeling like a child who'd disappointed a beloved parent.

"I found him in Isabella's room, half unconscious but coherent. Initial assessments indicate that he's been restored to himself; Loki's influence having left him presumably during the battle. He's in the medical wing being treated but hasn't spoken much, if at all."

Colonel Fury stared at her a long, hard moment before he sighed. "So there's that, then. Barton is back but at what cost..." he murmured, lost in thought.

Tony scoffed again and decided to break his silence. Natasha thought that was the longest the man had ever gone from speaking in his life. "Don't act like you don't know exactly what it cost us to get the Hawk back. You think the timing of this coup was an accident? The fact that Clint was found in _her_ room merely chance? Wake up – ! You still have one eye so you're not that blind."

"What exactly are you insinuating, Mr. Stark?" Fury lifted a brow.

"I'm not insinuating anything – I'm flat out saying it. Loki played us like a game of _Super Smash Bros_. He took her and we might as well have slapped a bow on the girl and handed her right on over."

Nodding, Fury fixed Tony with a pointed stare while saying, "And what's to say Isabella didn't go with Loki willingly...?"

Her name thundered into the room with all the subtly of a fish slapped to the face. Natasha hadn't noticed it until that very moment, but they'd avoided using her name – hell, she'd even avoided thinking it. As if the figurative distance would somehow soften the blow of her absence; make recent events more palatable.

"Why would Bella do that? She has as much reason as any of us to stop him – more even, considering her brother," Steve said, frowning down at the table. He tripped over her name just the slightest, concern marring his brow as if it left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

"It's like Stark said," Fury lifted his head, the picture of an unwavering devil's advocate. "It can't have been mere coincidence Barton was found in her room. You all saw how eager she was to run off and face Loki back in Germany; how determined she was to do her part and then some. I'm sure she would've found a way to go herself if we'd told her no – that girl is the picture of stubborn defiance once she's decided something. So the question is: what's to say she wasn't running _to_ him and has been all this time? Where was she this time? Doesn't it strike any of you odd that she was so eager before but when this boat started rocking she didn't come running to help steady it?"

It was clear by their faces that neither Tony nor Steve had considered that fact, not really. Conditioned to always assume the worse of people, Natasha's mind had circled the idea almost at once. Through a sense of loyalty and affection for Bella, she'd been unwilling to give voice to such thoughts – just hearing them felt treasonous.

But that's why Fury was the man in charge. Someone had to force them to look at the situation from every angle.

"Even if that's true," Tony began, frowning as though the words turned his stomach and made him want to hurl. "We could hardly blame the girl. Clearly he's mind-raped her. Has been before he even arrived. Not her fault that he's taken advantage of her. If anything, that makes her a victim – not a suspect."

He'd started off speaking slowly, his mind trying to wrap around Fury's proposal. But as he finished, his voice took on the shrill sound of defensive protectiveness – anger rising at the thought of someone verbally attacking the character of his young friend.

Before Fury could retort, Thor swept into the room. His broad shoulders were stiff and his face a clear picture of frustration and defeat. Natasha knew instantly she'd been right. He'd no luck tracking Loki.

Uncaring for any discussion they were in the middle of, Thor tossed his hammer. It landed in the center of the table with a clanking thud, the metal table denting under the impact.

The motion served to draw all attention away from their previous thoughts and focus on him. Natasha was grateful because she strongly suspect Tony was about to start throwing fists and she wasn't all that unsure Steve wouldn't have joined in.

Without any precedence, Thor demanded, "Tell me everything about the maiden Isabella."

"Excuse you," Tony snapped. "Do I look like google?"

"I've no time for your riddles, Stark – start talking," Thor boomed. He was an intimidating sight in his anger. A lesser man would've cowered at the sheer determination and fury he was radiating.

But Natasha often suspected Tony had been dropped on his head as a child. Instead of backing down, the billionaire rose up to the challenge. Shooting to his feet, it was clear to see he was sizing Thor up, taking in his impressive height and muscle. He looked like he was staring at some sort of complicated math equation and his genius mind was working double time to find the solution that would discover the man's Achilles' heel.

"But you didn't say please," Tony retorted, picture of defiant protectiveness.

None of them knew a whole lot about Thor, only that Loki was his "adopted" brother and that this was not the first time their family quarrels had spilled over to Earth. Tony would refuse to budge. He thought he was protecting Bella – something all of them did as habit by now.

Thor seemed to weigh Tony's resolve and amazingly appeared to respect it. His tightened shoulders loosened just a fraction and his head dipped in a silent acknowledgment of the other man's courage.

"I mean your young friend no harm – quite the opposite, in fact," Thor murmured, correctly guessing the source of Tony's ire. "If what I suspect is true then..." he trailed off with a frown before continuing, "Then I fear the stakes are far higher than any of us ever anticipated."

"I think the time for vague statements is behind us," Fury said, a wry tilt to his brow. "How about we practice a little _quid pro quo_."

"Clarice," Tony added, almost as if by reflex.

To which Fury shot him a look and Tony merely shrugged, though still not relaxing out of his defensive posture.

"Seems to me we could all benefit from some more information. Why don't we all get on the same page so we can finish this story with a classic happily ever after ending, shall we?" Fury said.

"You mean good guys win, bad guys lose and the hero gets the girl?"

Unfamiliar with the reference, Thor still knew enough to interject dubiously, "I wouldn't exactly call Loki a hero."

"So not the guy I was referring to," Tony muttered, eyes briefly flicking over to the Cap.

Whether Steve noticed or not, Natasha couldn't say. Steve's little crush was no secret but they all knew – Steve included – that it would go no where. Thankfully there was no bitterness to come from that since it was not in Steve's nature to be resentful of a lady. Natasha suspected it was only the similarities to Peggy that drew him to Bella in the first place and as he appeared content to admire the girl from afar and remain friends, she gathered Cap knew that as well.

"But that is exactly my point," Thor retorted. "Loki has already gotten the girl and even if it was within his power to do so, he would not relinquish her. Loki and Isabella are bound – that is clear to us all. Just how tightly, however, remains unclear. I suspect..."

"You suspect?" Steve prompted, blue eyes keen as he leaned forward in his seat.

"I was with Isabella before the attack began," Thor confessed.

The others exchanged telling looks. This was news to them.

"Having witnessed Loki's interactions with her – and her him – I was curious. To satisfy my curiosity, I called upon her."

Tony cocked his head to the side and studied him. "And just what did you two discuss in this little clandestine meeting? Hair care tips? Tupperware?"

"She told me a brief accounting of her first interactions with Loki," Thor continued, ignoring Tony's quips as he'd now come to learn the rest of them did. "The dreams, the meetings; slowly spilling into the other's consciousness during waking hours, crossing the void of space to find the other as if it was no great distance to them. The tether connecting them causing great pain should they separate – a sensation of one soul burning alive for the other. I think... no; I _know_ what their connection is now... Heimdall was right. She will be his salvation if it is not already too late," he whispered the last bit to himself.

"No more vague statements," Natasha snapped. "The time for being blunt is now so lay it out for us, Thor. What is their connection and how can we get her back?"

Taking a deep breath, Thor's eyes shot to a window. He spoke without looking at them, a frown marring his brow the only sign that he was still trying to make sense of it all himself. "You can't. You can't get her back. Loki and Isabella are soul bound," he stated flatly. Anticipating their next question, he added, "In Midgard you've long practiced alliances made by the bonds of marriage, whether for political gain or genuine affection. For many centuries it was the former that dictated these unions and that is still a practice in play in Asgard this day. While marriage based on true affection is accepted and ideal, my people see the value marital alliances. This is why a Soul Bond is so very rare. It is not dissimilar from such a union but it is also so much more. The practice has fallen to disuse because of its permanency; once made, the bond is eternal, connecting the mates for life and beyond. It is mutual and consensual. Once acknowledged and accepted by both parties, the bond in unbreakable. Loki and Isabella will carry the other within them through this life and the next."

"Are you saying that Loki and Bella are _married_? By _magic_?" Fury asked, incredulous expression a mirror of how Natasha herself felt.

"Essentially, yes," Thor finally looked away from the window, heavy gaze scanning them all as if to assure them of the truth of his words.

"Impossible," Tony scoffed. "I don't recall a wedding ceremony – no 'til death do we part' vows followed by drunken toasts and terrible music."

"I find this hard to believe as well," Steve was frowning. "Not the connection you speak of, Thor, but just that Bella would ever agree to it. After her experiences with Edward and the way she and Loki interact... Yes, she has always been drawn to him but agreeing to such a binding? Hardly seems like something she'd do, if you ask me."

"Unless," Natasha spoke quietly, her mind whirling with implications. "Unless she stood to gain something by agreeing to it..."

Her words hung heavy in the air, an unspoken name hanging with them.

"Barton," Fury exhaled the name they were all thinking on a sigh, shaking his head.

When acknowledged out in the open like that, it actually seemed exactly like something Bella would do. The bond between the brother and sister was tangible. It was no secret the two adored the other above all reason. There was not even a whisper of doubt that Bella would do anything to save her brother. Anything; including agreeing to a bond that would forever tether her to a megalomaniac hell bent on world domination.

"But what would Loki gain? I mean – what's his motivation? He doesn't strike me as the type to enter such a binding..." Steve asked.

"I think," Thor began. "I think my brother just wants Isabella out of their bargain and has used current circumstances as a means to achieve that without sacrificing his pride."

"Well isn't that romantic," Tony drawled.

"Loki is not one to instigate such a bond, this is true," Thor admitted. "Yet, after speaking with Isabella it was clear that the connection had indeed been triggered before his arrival."

"Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match," Tony breathed quietly. "Hells Bells didn't have the means to strike up the match and Loki never would... So who exactly is playing love connection here?"

"I myself pondered this right before the start of the attack. I asked Isabella herself in plain speaking – she did not confirm the bond but also did not seek to deny it... I suspect the connection grew stronger upon their meeting on the same plane and once Loki realized what it was, it was too late. Instead of forsaking the bond, he was already in deep enough to want to seal it, exploiting current events in order to do so."

"Well isn't that a cute bedtime story," Tony snapped, pushing away from the table. "But it solves exactly nothing for us, now does it? Coulson is still fighting for his life, the scepter and Loki are both gone – not to mention the tesseract – and Isabella has lost her damned head and doomed herself while trying to save the whole damn world, no doubt."

It seemed Tony was spoiling for a fight and this latest show of dissent opened up the floodgates. Fury was trying to regain order while Tony faced off with Thor again. Not to be left out, Steve jumped to his feet to place himself between the two arguing men, even though he kept addressing Fury's barked orders with near contempt. The Cap wasn't pleased at all to have recently learned the real reason S.H.I.E.L.D. had been tampering with the tesseract and apparently didn't view Fury with the same amount of respect anymore.

As they all talked over each other like a bunch of boys three seconds short of whipping out their dicks for measuring in order to settle who the biggest man was, Natasha grew pensive as she thought over everything Thor had said. More to the point, she also thought of everything she knew about Bella, both from the file Fury kept on her and from what Natasha herself had seen.

Tony was sure Bella was being played – and there was no denying some truth to that – but Natasha didn't believe the girl had been manipulated into accepting the bond. Not without wanting to be manipulated into doing so.

According to Thor, Loki and Bella now shared a rare, everlasting bond. Soul mates essentially, if she was interpreting all the magic mumbo-jumbo right. Regardless of who instigated their connection, Natasha didn't think the fledgling bond would have survived through the void of space if there hadn't been some compatibility for them. The two had been dancing around each other long before meeting, the bond growing stronger despite the distance between them. To Natasha, that demonstrated a true connection – not some mystical bond that conveniently tied them together.

Bella had grown much from the girl she and Clint had swooped down to Forks, Washington to rescue. That Bella had been sad and lonely – lost in a sense of betrayal so strong it'd crippled her.

Thinking back on the first time Natasha had heard Bella murmuring in her sleep... that night Pepper had wrangled them together for a girls night of movies, cookie dough and gossip. Lightweight she was, Bella had been the first to fall asleep, followed shortly by Pepper. Natasha had stretched out on the floor, reclined against the foot of the couch by Bella's feet. It hadn't taken long for the sleep talking to start.

She remembered the way Bella had started rubbing at her chest that night. At first she'd thought it the alcohol giving the girl heartburn, but it happened well after he small buzz had worn off as well. She'd even done it in her sleep. Curled up in the corner of the couch, Bella had rubbed at her chest as one massaged a Charley horse leg cramp, her insistent fingers massaging insistently over her heart.

Then the talking had started.

_Abandoned. Forsaken_... _You're like me_.

It was the last words in particular that had resonated at the time and they rang out even louder now. They'd confirmed she'd been having some sort of dream convo with a mystery man but the way she'd muttered them. Even lost to sleep there was no denying the sense of compassion and empathy.

A vague comfort knowing that she still hurt but did not hurt alone.

Flicking her eyes to the arguing men, Natasha decided not to bring a new theory forming in her mind to light. They wouldn't have heard her even if she'd tried to interrupt, all of them well and truly in rare form.

But her mind still turned around the new idea that maybe Thor wasn't entirely wrong... Loki had all the signs of a classic egomaniac who would never willingly admit any sense of affection for another. The symptoms of a man afraid to love for he'd learned it to be a weakness to be exploited.

And Natasha had taught Bella well, not just in physical combat training, but mental combat as well. One of the first lessons she'd imparted to her young friend was the knowledge that any battle was not one by strength alone and that she would have to engage all of her assets should she wish to come out on top.

Maybe Bella... little innocent Bella... Maybe she had entered Loki's bargain with heart and mind open. Natasha didn't doubt Bella had true affection for the god but the girl was not blind to his faults as well. Loki had likely exploited circumstances to win the girl but Natasha suspected Bella let him win in order to face him in a battle he would not see coming.

Slowly rising to her feet, her mind continued to whirl as she thought on this new theory. The more she thought of it, the more sense it made for the young woman Nat had seen flourish into her own. This sounded more like the Bella they'd cultivated. The sad young woman who'd slowly been rising from her ashes. Determined and aware, though still soft-hearted in a way so few are able to remain when faced with such tragedy in their lives. This was more the Bella they'd come to love – a woman who saw the worst of herself in a man and did not shy away from him, but instead rose to the challenge.

Natasha walked out of the room, the others none the wiser, and headed down the hall.

It occurred to her that while the others weren't capable of listening to her new theory, there was someone she could share it with. Someone who knew not only the girl in question well enough to confirm Natasha's thoughts, but someone who also had intimate knowledge of the god in question as well.

Clint had had Loki running around in his head unwillingly but damned if Natasha wouldn't make sure some good wouldn't come of the situation.

She just hoped the man was ready to listen when she spoke. Clint could be a bit of a hothead when the mood struck.

* * *

><p>It took conscious effort to try and stop the trembling in his hands as he stared down at them, unable to accept that they were his own. The longer he stared into his shaking palms, the stronger the sense of betrayal stabbed at his raddled mind.<p>

He was reminded of when their mother had brought them up to Sedona for a weekend trip. As a present, Renee had paid for Clint and Bella to have their palms read, something both he and his sister had snickered at but had agreed to since they were bored. Sedona was a beautiful town but not very kid-friendly in the entertainment market. The palm reader had been a stout, airy woman with a deep, velvet voice that had reminded Clint of Eartha Kitt. When she spoke, he wondered if all of the burning incense had scarred her throat. Either that or he suspected she'd been a smoker for at least the last thirty years.

Bella had kept giggling as the woman had traced over the lines of her palm – she'd always been a ticklish sort – and Clint vaguely remembered the woman being mystified by the unusually strong, defined marks she said represented Bella's life, fate and love lines respectively.

"You have a touch of destiny about you, Isabella," Clint had quoted, dropping his voice to a faintly Caribbean drawl.

"You suck at accents, Hawkeye," Bella had guffawed, pulling her hand away from the still frowning woman so that Clint could have his turn.

Unimpressed, Clint had taken her vacated seat, smirking at Bella over the top of the woman's head once she'd shaken it clear and cradled his palm in one of her leathered hands. He waited for whatever tripe she would decide to peddle as she peered intently down at his right palm...

But she'd only glanced up at him and said, "Your head line gets fuzzy a few years down the line. Be careful of that," before she ushered them out of the room through a beaded curtain. She'd frowned once more at Bella before letting the beads fall, the clattering of them hitting sounding like rain on a tin roof.

He stared at his palms now much as the woman had stared down at his sister's, unable to process what his eyes were telling him. They certainly looked like his hands. The callouses on his fingers from years of pulling back his bowstring were the same as always. A deep scar on his left hand in between thumb and forefinger still reminded him of when he'd cut himself making a sandwich for Bella when she'd been about four... It'd been the first time she'd fainted at the smell of blood, nearly giving him a heart-attack in the process. These hands held the familiar mark of his memories but the sensation that his they now belonged to a stranger increased with every passing second.

They couldn't be his hands, Clint thought as he glared down at them. His hands had surely wrecked havoc before but never, not even in his darkest moments of anger and frustration with her, had they ever lifted in violence against his sister. Not even when she'd let her insecurities get the better of her and he'd get the fleeting thought to smack some sense into her.

Bile rose up in his throat but he forced it down. He'd already tossed his cookies once before when the vague memories hit... The ghost sensation of his hand thudding into his sister's face, wrapping around her neck and seeing the bluish-purple tint bloom over her face as voices in his head fought for supremacy.

If he thought to hard on the memory it dissipated, but on the peripherals of his mind the picture remained: the blue tint of Loki's influence battling a purple-like taint of another's presence. Someone had highjacked whatever mindspell he'd been under and tried to get him to kill his sister.

But his sister had fought back. Pride surged in his chest remembering how she'd found strength he never knew her to have and refused to give in. That pride withered just as fast, burned by an impotent rage as he thought about how she'd exchanged herself for him.

It'd been so obvious and classic Bella. As pissed as it made him he was hardly surprised by her actions and his half-baked contingency plans for such a scenario now ran in loop in his head. He hadn't gone through icy hell just to lose his sister at the end of it. He'd get her back and shove an arrow up Loki's ass for all the pain he'd become in Clint's.

The door open and closed with a subtle click behind him.

Sighing, Clint dropped his hands and sat up straighter.

"Nat," he greeted softly, already knowing who it was.

Her thin hand slipped onto his shoulder and trailed down his bicep until it curled softly around his hand. Screwing his eyes shut, Clint's chest tightened. Of course she knew what he'd been doing – staring at his hands and blaming himself – and her soft touch held a note of understanding and forgiveness.

Natasha could be soft when she wanted to be, he almost smiled as her head leaned down onto his shoulder.

"I missed you," she breathed so lightly he almost didn't hear her.

The confession warmed him because he knew a part of her saw it as a weakness yet she'd said it anyways.

"I missed you," he murmured around the lump in his throat.

"But it's time to stop sitting on the sidelines, Barton, and get back in the game – for the right team this time too, if you don't mind," she said, coming around to stand in front of him.

Without thinking he spread his legs and she stepped between them. His hands – they _were_ his hands – slipped around her waist and pulled her into his chest. He felt her inhale deeply as he buried his nose into her hair. He'd remembered her hair even in the blue haze. The red strands flickering like a spark of just out of his reach in that desolate cold...

"We have to get her back, Nat. I can't lose her. Not her," he confessed.

"I know," her arms wrapped around him and tightened. "But I'm not sure we can get her back – not completely. Things have happened while you were away, Clint. Things that can't be undone."

"Why do I already not like the sound of this?" he muttered dryly, fighting the urge to cry. Like a wrung out washcloth, he felt used and limp, hung out to dry.

"It's going be one hell of a fight ahead of us – not just with Loki, but the others as well. They're verbally tearing each other apart in a conference room as we speak."

"Well they can all suck a bag of dicks if they think their shit is more important than this – nothing is more important than stopping Loki and getting Eyas back. Nothing."

"They may may need you to tell them that," she snorted, but then her touch turned soft again as she said, "And you'll have to tell us everything you remember, including the things you don't want to remember."

Clint cringed, but didn't deny it. He knew he was an invaluable resource to Loki's schemes.

"And Clint," she continued still. "You're going to have to hear things that you don't want to hear."

He knew – just fucking knew – that it'd have to do with his sister and Loki.

"Tell me everything, Nat. Tell me everything that's happened and then take me to the others."

Natasha inhaled longly and when she released her breath, she started talking. She talked for a while, never leaving the circle of his arms even when his temper snapped and curses flew from his lips like arrows piercing paper hearts.

The shit his sister got herself mixed up in...

* * *

><p><strong>(AN):** As ever... thanks so much for your patience and for reading. Rest assured that even when real life goes astray, I will never abandon a story. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


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